


A Bug Called BB-8

by 230W49thSt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actually This Is A Story Of Keith And His Undying Love For Dogs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Happy Ending, Keith Owns A Mobile Coffee Truck, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Roommates, Voltron Secret Santa 2019, love bug au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22051855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/230W49thSt/pseuds/230W49thSt
Summary: A story featuring Keith's coffee truck, Pidge's biology project, some bugs and dogs, and Lance's feelings.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Voltron Secret Santa 2019 exchange on Tumblr/Discord.
> 
> It's my gift for Jordy-g21 on Tumblr who requested "roommates, love bug, college, modern" so obviously I combined them all. I hope you like it :) It got longer than expected, whoops. Also, I finished this fic at midnight when the fireworks started, in case you wonder what I did on New Year's Eve, lmao. Happy new year 2020!

“I’ll find you a new roommate within the next month and you’ll drive me to the zoo every morning during the critical week of my biology project. Deal?”

“This is the worst.”

“So we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.”

~~

Lance was not a fan of bugs and early mornings but he loved financial security like the other 7,7 billion people on Earth. So when his former roommate quit on him on short notice to move in with his girlfriend, Lance had found himself in a tricky situation, no matter how happy he was for Hunk.

Looking for roommates wasn't that difficult - it was an average priced flat and Lance was good company, or so he claimed, but he simply didn't have a clear mind or the time to check applications. After one rough month of suffering from lovesickness (that he refused to talk about so no one knew any details) and spending more miserable nights at campus parties than in front of his books, he had suddenly found himself on the edge of failing several classes. 

At least the wake-up calls given by two of his professors worked their magic.

Reality managed to get a hold of him again and after weeks of trying their best, his friend Pidge was able to rope him to his desk with the promise to help him out with the roommate issue in exchange for a ride to the zoo for one week. 

At this point, he almost didn't care who would live with him for the rest of college as long as they paid rent and saved Lance from financial ruin. And if he had to get up in the dark morning hours in the deepest winter days to fulfill his side of the deal, then that was a necessary sacrifice he had to make.

The bags under his eyes couldn't possibly get any bigger anyway. 

So that was the situation at hand and the reason why Lance felt like a zombie that morning.

It was 6 am when he took his seat behind the wheel of his car and waited for Pidge who lived only two blocks away. 

He'd almost fallen asleep when the passenger door was shut and a way too excited human was seated next to him.

"Morning Lance!"

"Uh-huh."

Pidge knew better than to start a conversation with Lance at this time of day but in an attempt to chase the sleepiness away, Lance himself opened his mouth to talk.

“What exaahhhh--” Okay, that was too wide open, he had to yawn. 

Second try. 

“What exactly is your project about again?” he asked and hid another yawn behind his hand. “In simple words,” he quickly added, drawing an exaggerated eye roll from his friend. 

For them, so Lance guessed, the task to describe their big project in a way for him to understand was probably more difficult than the project itself.

“Well,” Pidge began slowly as Lance pulled the car out on the street, “I have those bugs--”

“Yuck!”

“--that ooze some unique kind of salvia--”

“Yuck yuck!”

“--and my job is to analyze it and find out what it can be used for in the biomedical department.”

“Okay, that is so disgusting, I don’t even know what to say.”

“What about _thank you Pidge_?” his friend said smugly and Lance shot them a questioning look. “This was your last night alone in your flat,” they elaborated.

"You got me a roommate already?" Lance breathed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

His tiredness didn’t allow him to show his excitement the way he’d usually do but the gratefulness bled through anyway. He didn’t have to sell his organs! (Or beg his parents for financial aid what would’ve been just as bad as losing a kidney plus his dignity.) It had been his fault he didn’t have the energy to take care of the roommate situation and now by some magic miracle the universe in form of Pidge 'bless their tiny soul' Holt had come to his rescue.

"Yup,” Pidge confirmed. “A deal is a deal. I met him at the zoo, actually. Appears to be solid. Your age but no student, he works and has a regular income. I already gave him Hunk's old key yesterday. He will move in today and do all the paper stuff with your landlord.”

Lance nodded quickly. ”I owe this guy my life!”

“Pfff, more like you owe _me_.”

“I do,” Lance laughed, “but after this week of me being your chauffeur, we’re even, don’t forget that!”

Pidge grunted.

“But now spill! What's he like, my roomie?" 

Pidge put a finger on their chin and gave it a quick thought. 

“He’s quiet,” they said simply. “I don't think he’s the kind of person you'll see much from."

"Hm. Too bad. But I guess it's for the best. Can't risk having any more distractions this semester…" 

Pidge shot him a pointed look.

“Exactly. See how much I look out for you? And if I might add: I think you'll be happy about my choice.”

"That sounds ominous. What does this mean??”

"I think you’re friends already," Pidge hinted. “Or acquaintances at least.”

“Huh?? But not from college? Oh God, don’t tell me it’s one of the weird guys I hung out with two weeks ago? No wait, you said you met him at the zoo?? It’s not like… a monkey?” The signal light ahead turned red and Lance stopped the car, staring at Pidge. “Oh God.” His voice flattened out. “You got me a monkey for a roommate. Fuck. I will be so distracted.”

Pidge laughed loudly. 

“Be patient, young Padawan,” they said and stopped further futile attempts of Lance to get them to talk by being annoyingly silent.

~~

They arrived at the zoo’s almost empty parking lot a few minutes later and Lance didn’t know what possessed him to follow Pidge inside. Maybe it was the gratitude he felt towards them. A roommate! Who was willing to move in this very day so Lance didn’t have to pay the full rent himself this month! Also, he still got some time to kill before his first class this morning and driving back home wasn’t an option, it was too far away to catch some well-needed shut-eye and therefore wouldn’t help his life-nap-college-balance.

Lance hadn’t visited a zoo for a while, the last time about two years ago with his niece and nephew. He wasn’t much into caged animals, the thought usually left a bitter taste on his tongue. After a quick chat and a high five with the janitor (“Is he my roommate??” - “No!”), Pidge dragged Lance away from the long-haired Poitou donkeys that had their compound next to the entrance ("They're so soft! Roommates??" - "No!!") and led him to the nearby terrarium.

It was dimly lit with only the glassed cages properly illuminated. 

Bugs. Reptiles. Snakes. 

It was as exciting as the paper Lance had to write, deadline in six days, thanks for reminding him, and if his tiredness hadn't made him yawn already, he would’ve yawned from boredom by now. 

The backroom Pidge unlocked looked more promising though. There was a desk with several small terrariums that were… glowing? What the—

“Lance, meet my friends,” they said and pointed at one terrarium after the other. 

Despite feeling a bit wary being surrounded by bugs, Lance leaned closer. It took him a moment to spot the small creatures between little wooden sticks and pieces of grass but then he couldn’t take his eyes off of them: they were all glowing with a faint blue light. 

“Don’t worry,” Pidge chuckled, “they aren’t dangerous. These are R2D2, C3PO, K-2SO and-- hang on.” They stopped in front of the fourth terrarium, their eyes scanning the inside thoroughly. “Where is BB-8?”

Lance scoffed and folded his arms over his chest, giving the glowing bugs a faked unimpressed stare. 

“You seriously named the bugs after Star Trek—”

"Star Wars!" 

"Nerd. It was something with space and—”

"Lance, stop talking!” Pidge yelled and turned themselves around to search the ground. “Do you see something red?”

“No? Your bugs are all blue-ish?” 

The anxiety Pidge radiated began to sweep over to Lance. He had seen them being tense a lot but this time, they looked more serious than usual. He swallowed down the hurt for getting yelled at. This was important to Pidge, they didn't mean it personally. 

“BB-8’s red,” they explained in a hurry while pushing around empty boxes under the desk, “it’s the very reason I’m doing this project, the others are only my control bugs.”

“Can't you just get a new one?” he proposed quietly as he helped his friend searching the ground. 

“You don’t understand,” they sighed and looked back at him. “I can’t just—.” 

They briefly shut their eyes in some sort of silent but probably scientific prayer. 

“Lance," they said with a breathy voice, "get out.”

“I can help you look for it.”

“I said get out, Lance!”

They might have been smaller than him but their panicky voice boomed loud through the room. 

“But you said they aren’t dangerous!” Lance complained as he got pushed towards the door and out in the hallway. With his hand put in the door frame, he tried to stop it from closing. “Pidge! What’s going on?”

“They’re not life-threatening. I guess…” they mumbled and took a deep breath without taking their eyes off the ground. “But their salvia can do things we don’t know much about yet. It’s my job to get more details. I needed ten zillion special permits to even get them through customs so… No, I can’t get a new one.“ They gently pushed Lance’s hand away. "Shoo. I bet BB-8’s in one of the boxes with my papers. I have to search the entire place. If it has escaped, I have a big fucking problem.”

Lance nodded and patted their shoulder. "Alright. Don't let it bite you unless it gives you awesome superpowers. In that case, I call dibs on being your amazingly handsome sidekick."

Pidge didn’t lift the corner of their mouth at his joke, not even out of pity. There was something they didn't tell him and no matter how much Lance pushed, Pidge stayed quiet.

“I’ll be fine.” They said with a forced smile that did the opposite of reassuring Lance. “I text you as soon as I’ve found it.”

“You better!” His face turned solemn as he made the peace sign. "May the force live long and prosper!" 

~~

Leaving felt wrong and Lance couldn’t shake off how worried he was, no matter that Pidge had given him a half-hearted punch against his shoulder while trying not to laugh about his last words. 

It was a serious situation and his friend tried to keep it secret. Well then. 

Pidge was stubborn and they knew what they were doing so Lance forced himself to trust them once again. They were good in rating situations from “harmless” to “I need some help and a pack of M&Ms” and if they said this wasn’t a dangerous one, then Lance believed them. 

For now. 

Back in the fresh air, he took a deep breath and slowly calmed down. It was still dark outside, the zoo barely illuminated. The cold tried to crawl under his jacket and made him shudder. He waved the Poitou donkeys goodbye but got nothing in return. Rude.

When he got back at the parking lot, his car and the janitor’s weren’t the only vehicles anymore. A black truck was standing close to the zoo’s entrance. If it hadn't been for the light shining through a small open side-window in the back, Lance’s tired eyes would’ve missed it in the dark.

Not only _any_ truck.

It was a _vending_ truck.

With the hope to hold a hot beverage or a croissant in his hands in a few minutes, he jogged over and tried to get a glimpse inside.

"Hi, excuse me!" Lance called out.

On the shelves on the other side, he spotted several open bags of coffee beans, a lot of paper cups, and some steaming coffee machines, probably warming up. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air and Lance’s mouth watered. It took him a hot second to realize that the big vending window hadn’t been opened up yet and the small one he was currently creeping through had only the purpose for letting in some air but well, he already made himself visible - or rather audible - so he might as well go through with it.

It was not even 6:30 am and he was desperate, that had to be enough of an excuse.

"Anyone there?” he asked, albeit a bit hesitant. He was already making a fool of himself but he still held the power of how much he wanted to be embarrassed later. No need to push it.

Finally, he heard someone move around. 

"I'm not open yet!" an angry voice called from the front of the truck. It sounded oddly familiar. 

Lance dialed down the desperation. “Oh, okay. I understand. When will you open, then?”

“In fifteen minutes and not here.”

Fuck it, he _was_ a desperate man.

“Oh man, seriously?” he whined. “Can't you make an exception? I’m the only one here and I’m in need of something hot.” Lance folded his hands like in prayer and stuck them through the window for the guy to see. "Pleaaaaase!" he begged. “I’m having a really tough morning and you would save my life, dude. Come look at my puppy eyes.”

Someone moved with heavy - and probably angered - steps towards the back and growled.

Lance frowned. 

He knew that growl.

But no.

No, that wasn’t possible, he decided, but took a step back to take in the exterior of the truck properly for the first time. 

Okay, it was a similar truck. And the painting looked just like _his_ , now that he paid attention in the dark parking lot. But purple space wolves on a black background were a common picture on mobile coffee shop trucks in the town he lived in, right?

Right…?

Seriously, what were the odds that this was actually--

"What do you want?" the voice asked impolitely, clearly making a poor job in hiding his annoyance - which should've been the second hint, really - but it was already too late for Lance to back out. 

A second later, his suspicion became a dreadful but also beautiful reality. 

Keith stared back at him through the small window, apparently as dumbstruck as Lance felt at this moment when their eyes met.

_Keith._

Lance only allowed himself two seconds to let his eyes take in the well-known barista in front of him. He still had the same stupid mullet, the same stupid purple-grey eyes, the same stupid _everything_ that Lance had already spent hours actively trying to hate… and had failed miserably in doing so. 

He swallowed down the rising pain that radiated from his heart.

Keith still looked good.

_That fucking heartbreaker._

“I’ll have the same as usual, coffee boy,” Lance repeated his catchphrase with as much confidence as he mustered - which wasn’t much but he tried anyway - and put a five-dollar-bill on the small counter. 

“And that is?”

Lance scoffed. He tried to sport the same offended face he used to wear when Keith pretended not to know his almost daily order. Only this time, it didn’t start any playful bickering that usually established between them, no, this time, it kinda hurt. 

“I thought we were over with playing games,” Lance muttered, the intended nonchalance leaving his mouth as pure bitterness and he cringed when he noticed it. 

After all, it was _Lance_ who had just tried to dive right back into the state of their barista-customer-relationship they had been stuck in for months until…

Until they had almost become something like friends. At least Lance had thought so.

He cringed even more when Keith kept staring at him as if he had just arrived back on Earth after spending 57 years in outer space fighting aliens. Which was insulting, really, because it hadn’t been Lance who had left! 

In the past, the barista would have replied something dry and witty but this time, he didn’t. He opened his mouth to say something and Lance briefly died inside, not sure he wanted to hear what a person who had rejected him by changing his workplace had to say to him after 2 months and 3 days. 

His thoughts were interrupted when out of a sudden, Keith’s hand smacked down next to the five-dollar-bill. 

The rash movement and loud noise startled Lance. 

“Bug,” Keith explained calmly like the God of ‘I couldn’t be bothered’ and inspected the palm of his hand as if this happened every second day. The remains clung to his skin and its red coloring stood out.

“Yuck,” Lance commented dumbly and watched Keith scrunching up his nose at the mess he had made. 

Fuck, that was a huge bug.

_Hang on_ , Lance thought and realization dawned on him.

“Hang on,” he repeated loudly and reached over the counter to grab Keith’s wrist, holding him in place. Not only was the bug very large and his insides red, no, the blood also appeared to be faintly glowing as well. 

“Fuck," Lance hissed, "it’s BB-8! It’s definitely the space bug!”

Keith kept staring at him from over the little counter that separated them and quite literally put him on the high ground. 

“Are you drunk?” he inquired with raised eyebrows.

Lance wanted to shrink under the probing look of his purple-grey eyes.

“Don’t-- don’t move, Keith!”

He tried not to overthink that he was touching his crush and his crush didn’t pull away. Quickly, he took a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser on the small counter inside - bless his long arms - and rubbed the smashed bug pieces off of Keith’s hand, cautious not to touch the dead insect himself.

"The bug belongs to my friend's biology project," he explained his action. “I gotta bring it back to them.” 

He eyed Keith warily before he let go of his wrist. Speaking of Pidge and the bug… They had said it was the salvia that… did things, right? He looked at the remains in the paper towel. There was liquid, without a doubt, but probably mostly blood. He couldn’t tell for sure though. Keith's hand had pretty much touched everything. Including the salvia.

“Wash your hands thoroughly, ehh, and with disinfectant if you have. All the soaps and stuff, you hear me? It’s a special bug, probably dangerous, I don’t know...”

Keith nodded in silence, the fingers of his other hand absentmindedly touching the wrist Lance had held onto only a few seconds ago.

“Are you okay?”

Keith frowned. “It’s just a bug. Of course I’m good.”

“Yeah… I guess.” 

Some relief flooded his veins. Keith didn’t look any different than usual - still gorgeous af - and he wasn’t dead. He guessed it was safe to say that the bug wasn’t the trigger for the zombie apocalypse. Maybe Pidge had been wrong about any effects of the salvia. Speaking of Pidge--

“I'll be right back, just gonna return the Stargate bug real quick.”

"Pretty sure it's Star Wars." 

"Nerd. Don't move!" he yelled and ran off to the terrarium. 

~~

He didn’t know why he kept the circumstances of BB-8's tragic death secret to Pidge. 

No, that was a lie. He knew why. Talking about its brutal exitus would require mentioning the murderer. Keith. So far he'd done an amazing job in pretending he had nothing major to do with this particular guy. 

_Keith who? Oh, you mean that guy from the coffee truck that used to park on campus? Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in a while, Hunk._

Lance had already bullshitted himself through various conversations with Hunk who - unfortunately - had picked up that Lance's mood began to change roughly two months ago and tested various ideas in the romantic direction, one of them the very sudden and mysterious disappearance of the campus’ coffee truck Lance had been seen at every day.

_Did he say where he went? I thought you two were almost friends or something. You hang out there a lot..._

_Don’t be ridiculous, Hunk, he’s a menace with a mullet. And I just like the drinks._

_If you say so._

And he had said so! So Hunk had let it slide and Pidge hadn’t been very invested in Lance’s love life from the beginning. Sure, they’d seen him jogging to the coffee truck first thing every morning but at least they hadn't voiced any suspicions like Hunk had done.

When Lance returned to the truck, feeling slightly bad for telling Pidge he had found the bug somewhere on the ground, the big vending window was open and a steaming cup had been placed on the counter.

Keith was standing behind it, already wearing his standard purple shirt and black pair of jeans. His hair was tied up in a ponytail. Lance’s eyes briefly lingered on his earrings and leather armband. 

The bad boy outfit had him weak in his knees since day one but knowing that there was more to Keith than his - admittedly hot - exterior sent off an army of butterflies through Lance’s stomach.

In the course of a few months, their teasing and bickering had turned to small-talks and longish-talk. All the little things, facts, quirks and facial expressions Keith slowly had revealed: Lance had breathed them all in.

Apparently for nothing.

Yeah, it hurt to see him again. It felt like losing him all over. Except that he had never had him. Lance sighed. He was one dramatic binch and he knew it. It took all of his emotional effort to keep his cool when he walked up to the counter.

“Here’s your hot chocolate,” Keith said and nodded towards the cup. 

“Thanks, man,” Lance mumbled, already planning to get out of his situation as soon as possible because his heart couldn’t take another rejection, “I really--” 

He stopped. 

He squinted. 

He frowned. 

“I didn’t tell you my order,” he stated.

"You're a regular. Used to be, I mean." 

Keith’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet but Lance dismissed his weird behavior because— he remembered his favorite drink. Which meant he remembered Lance. Which meant… he probably remembered the napkin Lance had left on his counter 2 months and 3 days ago. A napkin with a nine-digit number and an admission that he liked him and if Keith wanted to go out with him, he now had his number.

He might have added a heart next to his number on the spur of the moment because, yes, Lance _had it bad_ for the guy. 

Was Keith pretending this hadn’t happened? There was no way he hadn't seen the napkin!

Lance tried to keep his response light but he couldn’t stop himself from adding one teaspoon of mild accusation.

“You must have one hell of a memory when you’re able to remember all of your ex-customers favorite drinks. I can’t even tell when I’ve seen you on campus last time.”

Exactly 2 months and 3 days ago but who was counting, ha.

Keith scratched his neck. He almost looked a bit lost. "I... thought I had to move on."

What’s that, some kind of half-assed explanation that was worth nothing but more confusion?

"But?” Lance asked while fighting a two-front battle against dread and anxiety. “I feel like there’s a _but_ coming.” At least the urge for an explanation for why Keith had left so suddenly was a major ally so his voice didn’t even shake.

“Turns out it’s not that easy.”

Before Lance could make something out of this statement, Keith took the cup and held it towards him.

“Here. Your drink.”

“Thanks.” Lance wrapped his fingers around the cup. 

Then his heart stopped. Because Keith hadn’t withdrawn his hand. He was still holding the cup but now Lance’s fingers were covering his. 

“Uh,” Lance said wisely, his head too dizzy from the unexpected touch and also because the cup was fucking hot, how was Keith able to even hold--

“On the house,” Keith whispered, his eyes burning through Lance but it was a soft flame, a warm flame, a flame he wanted to curl himself around. “As an apology.”

“What for?” Lance croaked.

“Disappearing.” 

The word came out blurted and Keith pulled his hand back quickly, looking shocked for what he had said. Lance almost dropped the cup and stared at the flustered barista. 

"I don't know… why I said this," Keith slowly pressed out with an underlying tone of anger that was most certainly directed at himself. 

Lance was too dumbfounded to reply coherently and that rarely happened. Stupid responses, yeah, all the time, but a lack of speech? Wow. Super rare. And now he couldn’t stop staring. Thankfully, Keith turned around to clean the other coffee machines, his back facing Lance.

“I need to get to my usual place before the commuters arrive,” the barista continued, “I just park here in the morning to get my stuff ready. Will you be here tomorrow again?”

“What?”

"What?" Keith parroted and hurled around again. For a moment, they were locked in a staring contest with each other. Lance bit his lip. Had he heard it wrong? 

"What did you ask me?" he asked quietly. 

“Are you coming back here?” The second the words were out, Keith's eyes widened and he nervously ran a hand through his hair, messing up his ponytail.

“Uh. Actually, yes. I promised Pidge to drive them here every morning this week.”

“Okay. Do you want the same then? Drink, I mean?” 

“Su— sure.”

Okay, Lance was soarin’, flyin’, there wasn’t a star in heaven that he couldn’t reach. His crush asking if he was coming back and basically promising to prepare him his favorite drink did things to his heart, soul and body, the whole nine yards. However, Lance couldn’t shake off the feeling that Keith was acting _strange_.

By the wild look in the barista’s eyes, there had to be a storm going on in his mind. But as suddenly as it had appeared, it seemed to settle and his eyes went calm. A bit too calm in contrast to what it had been before… Like the storm was gone or… Keith hadn’t been able to fight it anymore? 

“Good! Don't forget your five dollars.” 

Lance swore there was a smile crossing Keith’s face, visible only for the splinter of a second before it got replaced by a nervous frown. 

“Uh, I’m afraid you have to pay for the next drink,” he said, “I have to pay rent today and need every cent.”

“Uh, yeah, of course, I— I didn’t expect you to give me free drinks anyway,” Lance chuckled. 

Keith shrugged. 

“What does that mean?” Lance imitated the shrug and took a sip of the hot chocolate, hashtag blessed.

“It means what it means.”

“You’re weird.”

Keith shrugged again but this time a playful smile appeared on his lips and he propped his forearms on the counter as he was about to start a conversation.

“Are you still going to college?”

Oh shit, he really _did_ start a conversation?? Lance swallowed down the initial shock.

“It’s been two months since we last talked, Keith, of course I still attend college.”

"2 months and 3 days."

Lance choked on his hot chocolate. 

“That sounds about right,” he coughed.

Keith nodded solemnly. “I work close to central station now. I would’ve come back to the campus but—”

“You had to move on, I get it.” 

An uncomfortable silence spread between the two. Keith broke their eye contact to stare at the counter and mumbled something incoherent.

“Uh, now off you go,” Lance finally managed to press out, “don’t let the commuters die from lack of coffee.”

Keith tapped his fingers on the counter. “Right.” He still didn’t make a move to look back at Lance. Ouch.

“I see you tomorrow, Keith.”

“See you tomorrow, Lance.”

Lance was about to turn around and leave before he stopped. His eyes lingered on the cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

_On the house. As an apology. For disappearing._

“Keith?”

Finally, eye contact again. 

“Yeah?”

Lance held up the cup. “Thanks for the drink. Apology accepted.”

Keith’s bright smile followed him for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Which was a mess, Lance’s rest of the day was a _mess_ and he solely blamed Keith and his smile. 

Only a few weeks ago, he had managed to get his college life under control, his grades had gotten better, his papers were okay(ish) and now? Keith came back to ruin it all. Again.

No, not true, Lance’s feelings were the real villain here.

He didn’t get anything done. His blank but fixed stare at the blackboard got noticed by a professor who was delighted to see him so interested in his lecture. If only he knew that Lance’s hyperfocus had nothing to do with the class but the pictures he imagined in front of his eyes and replayed in his head.

He had met Keith again. 

Keith had remembered him. 

And had acknowledged his sudden disappearance that had let to Lance’s downfall in every other part of his life and even apologized for leaving.

But most importantly:

Lance was gonna see him again the next day.

Two months had passed since he’d seen him last and in those dreadful two months, he had done everything to get his mind off the guy who had left him without even having the decency to say goodbye or to tell him he wasn’t interested. Lance had believed they _had_ something, alright? There’d been flirting, especially in the last few weeks. He had made the emo guy smile! They even had inside jokes. And then Lance had finally gathered all of his courage and had done a move by slipping him his number.

The next day, Keith had been gone, unaware that he had taken Lance’s heart with him. And now that he’d seen him again, he had realized that Keith still hadn’t given it back. 

_What an asshole._

An asshole he was in love with.

After college, Lance picked up Pidge and they drove home together because Pidge claimed they wanted to borrow a movie which was a blatant lie since they weren’t much into movies in general. They wanted to introduce Lance to his roommate, that was for sure. The only thing Lance wasn’t sure about was the reason why they appeared to be making such a big deal about it.

“How’s your project?” Lance asked cautiously on their way upstairs. He still felt bad about the dead bug. “Will you still be able to, uh, work on it?”

To his relief, Pidge nodded. “Yeah… I was able to isolate the active substance in the salvia that was left. It was just enough, thankfully. I’m glad you found BB-8, I really am, Lance. I was terrified it might have escaped.”

“So, it’s dangerous after all?”

“Me not getting my degree? Yes!” they laughed. “Enough about me, are you excited to meet your new roommate?” Lance wanted to protest against the sudden change of topic but dropped it when he saw the grin on Pidge’s face.

“Yes,” he claimed to be.

Truth to be told, he wasn’t that excited anymore. The events of this morning and the emotional turmoil that had followed him all day still occupied his mind. But Pidge helped him a lot so he traded his somber face for a happy face.

They entered the flat together and Lance’s eyes darted to Hunk’s former room. There was the bed his buddy had left (but now with another mattress), a small shelf with some books and some clothes randomly thrown on top of it, a small desk and a chair. Nothing fancy. No posters covered the wall which was too bad. Lance would’ve loved to get a headstart on what his new roommate was into.

“I don’t think he’s here,” Pidge said from the kitchen. “The bathroom’s empty, too.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll meet him sooner or later,” he said and opened the door to his bedroom, “I’m gonna get you your movie,” he teased them as he took a step inside and— stopped in his tracks.

“Pidge,” Lance whispered frantically, “I think there’s someone in my bed.”

It was hard to tell, he hadn’t switched on the light yet and his blanket covered almost the entire body but… without a doubt, there was a person snuggling in his sheets with their back turned towards the door. Only the lamp from the living room shed some light into the small room.

“What the hell, Lance, I thought your party days are on hold.”

“Shht! I didn’t put them there!”

Pidge glimpsed inside next to him. “So they just magically appeared?”

“I don’t know!”

“Hang on, maybe it’s your roommate.” Under Lance’s silent protest they tiptoed around the bed and took in the person’s face. “Yeah, it’s your roommate,” they whispered.

“Let me have a look.” Likewise slowly, he followed Pidge. With each step, the face and hair became more visible.

Lance’s heart skipped a beat only to start hammering in his chest like crazy. He had to be hallucinating. Seeing things, seeing things he wished _so much_ for but weren’t there… 

“Are you okay, Lance?”

Despite how much he blinked, the boy didn’t disappear. Which means… he had to be real…?

“Pidge. That’s-- that’s Keith!”

“Yeah,” Pidge affirmed quietly, “Keith.”

“Keith, the coffee truck guy!” 

“Yes, and now Keith, your roommate! Surprise! I thought you two got along fine, I saw you two hanging out a lot when he was still on campus. I'm gonna wake him up.”

“No! Don’t!” Lance whispered way too loud and waved his hands in alarm.

“Why? You want to keep him in your bed?” Pidge chuckled softly.

“Yes!” 

Pidge's voice dropped an octave. “You want _what_?”

Lance shook his head in desperation and waved his hand towards the boy in his bed. 

“Pidge, he is the very reason!”

“For what?”

Lance’s arms formed a huge circle in the air. “For _everything_!”

The very reason for everything stirred under the sheets and the two friends froze in their places. Only when it was safe to say that he was still sound asleep, they decided that it was probably for the best to leave the room and to continue their conversation outside with the door closed-- and with a chair propped against the handle.

“Eh, Lance, why the chair? What is going on?”

“I can’t have him listen to what I’m gonna tell you now so... “ He took a deep breath and led Pidge towards the couch. “Take a seat and calm down.”

“I’m not the one who just locked his roommate into his bedroom, I am calm.”

“But I’m not!”

Pidge gave him a pitiful look. 

“Clearly. So why is he the reason--” they copied the huge circle Lance had drawn with his hands-- “for everything?”

Lance closed his eyes and started talking.

~~

“Okay, wait. You had a huge crush on coffee truck guy and one day, you slipped him a napkin with your number and the next day, he was gone and never called you and you were so miserable that you tried to distract yourself with partying until your grades got so bad that you began to fail two classes and didn't have time to look for a roommate so I helped you and of all the people that applied, I chose your coffee truck guy crush to be your roommate who is currently fast asleep in your bed?”

Lance answered with a groan and buried his head in his hands. He couldn’t have given them a better summary.

“Do you still, uh, are you still into him?”

Lance’s head darted up and revealed a flushed face with ears as red as a ruby.

“Pidge. He’s in my bed and I am with one foot in the after-life already!”

Pidge bit their lip to suppress a grin from spreading.

“Oh, shit.”

“You’re not sorry, I see that.”

“No, listen, I am,” they said and their expression changed into a more serious one. “You have to admit that it’s hysterically funny but, oh Lance, I’m sorry about bringing him into your home. I thought you two were some kind of friends. I didn’t know you were in _love_ with him. I wouldn’t have done that to you. That’s just cruel.”

“Who said something about love?” Lance screeched. “I’m just— I— have a crush. A tiny crush. It’s safe to say it’s almost over, gone in a minute. It just, uh, took me by surprise to see him.”

“In your bed.”

Lance let out a burst of nervous laughter. “Yeah. In my bed. Right. Remind me, why is he in my bed again?”

“Maybe he’s just as obnoxious and random as you.” 

“Pff. No way. Look, you met him, you know what he’s like, right?”

“Direct, a bit grumpy and closed-off but also polite. I think he can be temperamental at times.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah… we argued a lot. Well, I teased him. I don’t even know why… But he retorted every time, never bristled.” Lance’s eyes lit up at a certain memory. “You know he hates fancy drinks?”

“Fancy drinks?”

“Like, he thinks latte macchiatos aren’t worth the effort. The foam and hot milk and all. A regular coffee or espresso should be enough for everyone. He can deal with a bit of milk and sugar but that’s about it. So when I asked him to consider marshmallows on hot chocolates, he started a big rant about how unnecessary it is and all and it got intense. I even thought our… uh… daily chatting was over.”

“What happened then?”

“The next day, I went over to him and was kinda miserable. I’d just written a shitty exam... I ordered a hot chocolate and… he asked me if I was okay. Like. He never asked me that before. And I said I was not so good. A few minutes later, he served me the most amazing hot chocolate ever, cream, marshmallows, chocolate sauce, and chocolate sprinkles.”

Pidge smiled and Lance couldn’t care less about the obvious blush on his face.

“That was a turning point, at least I liked to believe. I quit teasing him so badly and we talked more often. He was still closed-off and maybe it was him being careful, I don’t know. I thought we had some kind of connection. And when I did some soft flirting--”

Pidge snorted. “ _Soft_ flirting? You?”

“I can flirt softly, thank you very much. That kind of flirting you don’t even notice until it hits you the next day and you smack your hand on your forehead for being so oblivious!”

Pidge held their hands up in surrender. “Alright, so you did that-- and?”

“He was all blushy the next day but tried to get back to being more distant and started teasing me, like, what the hell?” Lance laughed softly. “To confuse him, I accepted his teasing with a smiley face and it worked. He dropped the act and--” Lance sighed. “I thought he was flirting back. Very subtly. But then I gave him my number and the next day he was gone. I didn’t think I’d see him ever again. Until today.”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

“Don’t _Zuko_ me.”

Suddenly, the doorknob of Lance’s bedroom rattled and the two friends jumped up from the couch.

“Oh God, what should we do?” Lance mouthed to Pidge. "Pretend we're not here?" 

“And hold him prisoner?” they mouthed back. "Let him out!" 

“He will probably kill me! Pretty sure he has anger issues!”

“Do it, Lance!”

“I can’t!”

Pidge bent their knees and slammed their hands on their thighs. “Just do it!” they whisper-yelled aggressively.

Lance didn’t want to incur the wrath of Shia LeBeouf who was clearly acting through Pidge so he Did It™ by rapidly pulling away the chair.

Two seconds later, the door slammed open and one very tired Keith stumbled out of the room right into Lance’s arms with a surprised “oh” on his lips.

Well, maybe it had been a good idea. 

“Uh. You sleep well?” Lance asked and immediately cursed himself for this stupid question. Holding a sleepy Keith with bed hair in his arms did things to his heart that were out of his control.

Nevermind, it was clearly a very very bad idea.

“Lance?" 

Keith’s eyes scanned his face and Lance didn’t know if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. His usually big pupils were endearingly tiny from his previous sleep and he blinked rapidly to understand the situation he found himself in. More hair strains than usual fell into his face and Lance had to pull himself together to not run his fingers through the hair. Sleepy Keith radiated a welcome warmth Lance wanted to drown in. 

Slowly, the confused look on Keith’s face was exchanged with curiosity. 

No one said a word, the situation was comically frozen. Pidge was the first to disrupt the awkward silence.

“I probably forgot to mention that your room is the other one,” they joked. “Nice to meet you again, Keith.”

Finally, Keith’s eyes left Lance and gave Pidge a quick glimpse.

“Hello. Likewise.”

Another stretch of silence.

“Uhh. Lance is very happy to have you as your roommate.”

Lance shot Pidge a look that promised their early death but when he looked back at Keith, he was met with a dopey smile.

“You are?” he asked and Lance lost his cool for a moment… because Keith shifted in his arms and went in for a proper hug, his arms wrapped around Lance’s waist.

"I'm happy too, Lance," Keith whispered into his ear, his breath causing a shiver to run down Lance’s spine.

Dumbfounded, Lance patted his back. 

Okay, something was wrong. This couldn’t be the bickering, brooding barista with the thickest shell in the country. The person in his arms was soft and fluffy and cuddly and smelled oh so good. Lance swallowed.

“I’m glad that I got a roommate after all but, uhh," he stammered, "yeah, it’s cool that it’s you because, you know, you make a mean hot chocolate.”

What the fuck was that, Lance cursed himself.

Keith scoffed, apparently also thrown back by Lance’s words, and withdrew from the embrace. With crossed arms, he glared at him. 

“We’re not gonna be roommates with benefits.”

“What?”

“You won’t be getting free drinks, just wanna make this clear.”

“Yeah,” Pidge pointed at Lance, “he’s always thinking about getting the D— Drinks.”

Lance’s eye twitched. He effectively ignored Keith right in front of him. 

“Oh look at-- at the-- the time,” he stumbled over his words and stared at his blank wrist, “it’s time for your funeral.”

Pidge chuckled. “Alright, I’ll show myself out, killer.”

No wait. No, that wasn’t what Lance wanted. Or was it? Leaving him alone with his crush? Weren’t there laws of friendships forbidding this kind of behavior? Unfortunately, Pidge had become immune to Lance's helpless or threatening looks. 

"Good night, boys!" 

"Bye, Pidge," Keith said calmly as if the world was still normal and pointed at Lance, "thanks for hooking me up." 

The sound coming out of Lance’s mouth was probably the amplified noise BB-8 had made when Keith had smashed it with his bare hand.

"With a flat," Keith croaked quickly and walked past Lance without looking at him. "I'm gonna hit the shower."

When Lance was positive Keith had closed the bathroom door behind him, he spread his arms in desperation and followed Pidge towards the door.

“Pidge!”

“Lance,” his friend replied and slipped into their shoes. “Again, I’m sorry.” They gave him a thorough look. “Do you want me to throw him out?”

“No! Of course not. I just--” He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do. He’s…”

“Kind of adorable. When I met him yesterday, he was a bit different. I have to take back my former assessment of his personality.”

Lance shook his head. “No! He’s just like that. This now, this…. This was weird. He’s distant and… has anger issues and--”

“Anger issues?” Pidge interrupted him. “I’m beginning to doubt it. He’s the fluffiest person I’ve met.”

Lance laughed nervously and shot a look in the direction of the bathroom. Like on cue, the noise of the running shower filled the background. “To be honest, I don’t know what just happened.”

“Well, clearly you two have a connection. You’re right, he was distant to me but it’s obvious he likes you a lot. He must’ve opened up to you a lot back then.” Pidge smiled.

“No, he didn’t, at least not that much. He’s… he’s different. Also, he left, he doesn’t like me like that.” Lance bit his lip. “Well, he didn’t like me like that in the past. Pidge, I’m confused. What do I do?”

“Well,” they sighed at Lance’s puppy eyes, “he hugged you. And he smiled at you as if he wanted to lay the world in front of your feet. And he’s almost as flustered as you. If I were you, I’d ask about the bed situation. That was a bit weird. But otherwise, just-- I can’t believe I’m about to say this-- just be yourself. If he can stand you in the morning before you had your first hot drink, then it’s a match made in heaven.”

A smile pulled at Lance’s mouth. The uplifting feeling didn’t last long though.

“Why didn’t he call me when I gave him my number?” he asked. “Why now? Am I just convenient now? He never was _that_ friendly with me.”

“Maybe you’re overthinking it. Talk to him, Lance. I don’t know why he left without telling you but maybe there was a valid reason.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Lance put a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. “Thanks though.”

“If it’s too much for you--”

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine, Pidge. He’s just--” He huffed an airily laugh. “He’s just oddly nice. That’s strange.”

“Hey Lance,” Keith’s voice sounded from the bathroom, sparkled with annoyance. “Can you please make some space for at least one bottle of shampoo for me? This is ridiculous.”

Pidge giggled and punched Lance’s shoulder.

“Trouble in paradise already with Mr. Oddly Nice, huh?”

Lance snorted. 

“I guess so.”

Weirdly enough, Keith’s grumpy exclamation relaxed him a bit. Maybe the situation wasn’t that bad. Maybe he was overreacting and Keith was just having a strange day. He would watch him carefully for the next day and hopefully get some answers. Good plan, solid plan, he thought as he hugged Pidge goodbye.

~~

Waiting for Keith to get out of the shower in his apartment put Lance in a frenzy. He checked his appearance at least ten times, he threw some pillows around to make the couch look more inviting and dimmed the light in the living room, turning the room cozier. 

He cursed himself. What was he doing?? 

Then he ran his hand through his hair, messed it up, threw the pillows back where they had been and turned on the bright overhead light.

 _Fuck romance._ This was the last thing he needed right now.

This was Keith's home, this wasn’t the location for a date. Lance crowned himself worst roommate ever and decided to sulk on the couch. 

The moment the noise of the shower stopped, Lance was currently looking up the prices of defibrillators online because he was convinced he would need one in the near future. 3.000 dollars though? Maybe with a payment plan he could-- 

The bathroom door behind him opened and he quickly closed the tab when he heard Keith emerging from the bathroom. 

"Sorry about the mess. I promise to clean out some of my produ… ah." 

Keith appeared in his field of view. That itself would have stunned Lance to silence since he had never imagined him to be in his apartment one day but the most shocking part was his appearance. 

Black slim jeans, a bordeaux colored button-down, and a... Was that a red ribbon somewhere hidden in his black hair? 

"You, uh, going out?" 

"I was, ah, on my way to bed…?" 

"Was that a question?" 

"I don't know?" 

They stared at each other for a moment. 

“A bit overdressed, don’t you think?”

A flush started to spread on Keith’s face. He mumbled something dismissively and took a few more steps towards--

“Uh, Keith?” Lance said slowly and sat up straight on the couch, not taking his eyes off the boy in front of him.

Keith stopped like a deer caught in the headlights. Slowly, he turned around.

“Yeah?”

Lance swallowed. “That’s, uh, _my_ room,” he said and pointed at the door Keith was about to push open.

“Oh.” Reluctantly, Keith pulled his hand away. “I know. I was just— Uh." He shook his head and moved towards his own room, shoulders slumped. “It's been a long day. Good night, Lance.”

“Hey, wait," Lance called out and followed after him. "So, uh, why didn’t you tell me you were moving in with me this morning?”

He tried to ignore the brutal beating of his heart when Keith looked at him.

“I didn’t know. Pidge briefly showed me the flat after I said I was interested and I knew I’d live together with _someone_ but… I didn’t know it was you until— uh, until later. Good night!”

Lance frowned and grabbed Keith’s arm to stop him from leaving. Honestly, he was sick of him leaving without explaining his reasons.

“No, wait up. Until when? And why did you sleep in my bed?”

Keith scratched the back of his head and lowered his gaze. He looked uncomfortable, as if he'd been put on a spot, but hey, Lance deserved to know why his crush had occupied his bed earlier. Things like that didn’t just happen. 

“Uh. I checked out your room to see what kind of person my roommate is. And uh, then I fell asleep. After I figured out it was you. The pictures on your nightstand, you know…”

Lance pressed his lips together when the flush on Keith's face intensified. 

How endearing.

It didn’t explain _shit_ though.

"So you think I'm boring? And that made you fall asleep?" Lance teased lightly and raised an eyebrow. He wouldn’t let him leave again without a proper answer.

But Keith didn’t answer. What he did though was taking a step towards Lance until their faces were close. 

"You're not boring. Actually, I missed you.”

It was the sincerity in his voice that broke Lance out of his stupor. Keith wasn’t that good of an actor to fool him like that, that was for sure. There was something weird in his eyes, as if Keith had been surprised to have said it. 

Lance put a hand on Keith’s arm, gently holding him in place. “Keith.”

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked slowly.

“Yes, of course. A bit under the weather, maybe.”

Keith’s flushed face… maybe--

“Do you have a fever?” Lance asked. “You look as if you’re burning up.”

“I also feel like burning up but no fever, no. Here.” Without hesitation, Keith took Lance’s hand and brought it up to his forehead, brushing through some strands of hair by doing so. “Feel. No fever.”

Lance tried his best to get a grip again. His hair was indeed the softest.

“Yeah, sure, you’re right, no fever,” he confirmed more steadily. His entire hand was pressed on Keith’s forehead and maybe there was no fever but he sure felt as if his own hand was on fire.

He needed to get the upper hand asap. Scissor Scissors’ advice to _fight fire with fire_ came to him.

“However,” he added with an exaggerated wink and let his fingers wander down on Keith’s face, “you’re still flushed.” To underline his (pretend) boldness, he cupped Keith’s cheek and tapped his fingers against his skin. “Flushed.”

Ha, see! He won! Easy peasy!

“Well, that happens when pretty boys touch my face.”

Lance withdrew his fingers as if they had been burnt and stumbled backward until his calves bumped against the coffee table. 

Fuck the fucking fire!

The coy but very visible smile on Keith’s face only added to the fact that no, Lance hadn’t won anything except the crown for the least graceful being in the room.

Keith didn’t comment on it - which made everything a bit worse - but returned the playful wink. “Sleep well, Lance.” Without warning, Lance got exposed to another bright Keith smile he wasn’t used to yet. Only when the door behind his new roommate had closed, the confused boy dared to take in his surroundings again and sat down on the coffee table behind him. 

“What?” he whispered to himself and the universe.

The universe didn’t answer. 

Regardless, Lance waited a few more minutes before the exhaustion of the day forced him to bed. Only when his head hit his pillow and his nose took in something else than the typical fragrance of his sheets, he realized that he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. 

His pillow smelt like Keith.

Who had openly flirted with him. Called him pretty even.

Lance grinned into his pillow. Although he had wished for a lot of things to happen between them, his hope along with his heart had been smashed to pieces the moment he had realized that Keith had disappeared from his little life. But now he was back. Lance deserved a moment to let that sweet fact sink in.

However, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something about Keith was severely off… 

A task for tomorrow’s Lance to investigate. Tonight’s Lance concentrated on how much his cheeks hurt from smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Lance woke up to the noise of his daily alarm. Pidge had set the sound to an especially annoying one so Lance had no other choice than doing his mighty best to stop it from blaring into his ear. His fingers were quick to grab his phone and push the “stop” button without even looking at it. Dangerous business. He might fall asleep again. 

Involuntary, he opened his tired eyes. He could do it. Only a few more days being Pidge’s personal chauffeur. Suddenly, the display of his phone lit up and Lance was quick to check his notifications. Huh.

New text messages.

Unknown number:

**if you want to sleep in, i can take pidge to the zoo.**

His heart immediately increased the beatings per minute and he gripped his phone tighter, afraid he might drop it on his face when he replied.

Lance:

keith is that you

Unknown number:

**yes, good morning**

Lance:

did pidge give you my number

There was a rather long pause.

Unknown number:

**so do you want to sleep in or not?**

Lance scoffed. Right, blatantly ignoring his question.

Lance:

no i’ll be up in a sec

Thanks though

Unknown number:

**i’ll get going then**

**see you at the zoo?**

Lance:

sure!

Unknown number:

**:)**

Lance:

:)

Lance threw his phone across his bed and hid under the sheets because that was what you do when your crush sent you smileys.

This is what he always wanted but he hadn’t expected it to feel like being hit by a bus. Maybe like a small vehicle or a bike but this was a whole other league of crushes suddenly responding to him. It _barely_ happened. Well, actually it had never really happened before so maybe that was the reason Lance was in fact _not okay at all_.

Maybe Keith had been drunk the evening before, maybe that was why he had acted so strangely. And now he was simply hungover. Hence the smiley. Maybe he got self-conscious about how he had acted the night before and this was his form of apology?

Lance sat up in bed, looking content about this possible solution. Passing out in his bed, being all cuddly and flirty, of course!

Today’s gonna be different. He’d check up on _sober_ Keith and things would get back to-- Huh. Back to how they were? 

~~

On their drive to the zoo, Pidge tried their best to make Lance talk but he countered with his Golden-Globe-Awarded “I’m so tired” performance. He didn’t want to talk about Keith who clearly had been drunk so he shouldn’t tell Pidge about it, they’d only assume the worst or make false assumptions. There was only one thing he needed to know.

“By the way, Pidge, did you give him my phone number?”

“No, why?”

“Just asking.”

Lance furrowed his brows.

If they hadn’t given him his number, it meant that…. 

A wave of new determination flooded his body and he had to bite back a full-blown grin. So Keith had kept his number all the time!? _Can you believe?_ The thing he wasn’t sure about was whether to be angry or happy. If he had kept it, why hadn’t he just called or texted?

~~

Keith’s coffee truck was already there when Lance and Pidge arrived in the zoo's parking lot. 

The moment the two of them got out of the car, the big vending window opened and revealed Keith in his work uniform. He exchanged a wave with Pidge before the latter headed straight for the terrarium.

Lance made his way up to the truck, the plan to check on Keith in a hopefully sober state his highest priority. If he was brave enough, he would ask about his phone number, too. Ha!

“Hey Lance!” Keith said, sounding oddly chipper for this time of day. "Here, I got your hot chocolate."

The familiar sweet smell made Lance’s cheek hurt with happiness and some facts briefly slipped his sleepy mind.

"Bless you,” he sighed as if he would have done a few months ago. “You're an angel in disguise."

Judging by the healthy flush on Keith’s face he _really_ shouldn’t have said something even remotely flirty after last night’s, uh, situation... Keith probably regretted his drunken behavior.

Lance cleared his throat, ready to ramble about something that would hopefully bring them back to safer shores when--

“I guess that makes you an angel in plain sight."

Lance’s eyes widened and he was pretty sure his mouth was gaping open a little bit too long when he stared at Keith’s little smirk.

"What-- makes you say that?" 

"Ah… I mean, you saved me from more nights spent in my truck instead of a bed."

Lance nodded quickly. "Right, yeah, sure, any time. Sooo… You slept well?”

Okay, one line of small-talk was okay. Heck, he needed some normality himself.

“Ah. Not so good,” Keith admitted but the smile didn’t vanish.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Why not? Is it the new location? Sometimes it takes a while before--”

“Your mattress is softer.”

“Ahh. Uhh, okay.” _Think McClain, think._ “Well, I’m not trading my mattress for yours, that’s for sure,” he declared and took a long victorious sip of his hot cocoa that kind of burnt his tongue but heck, it was all about winning this-- whatever it was they were having.

Keith tilted his head. “Didn’t say anything about _trading_ …” The way he stretched the last word had Lance reeling back.

“Whadd wad thad?” 

Okay, fuck, he had burnt his tongue. 

“Do you need a glass of water?”

Lance swallowed. “I’m good, thanks.”

Usually, Lance was the expert in diffusing awkward situations but this time, he was lost. To his surprise, Keith didn’t comment on his moment of confusion but nodded a goodbye.

“Well then. Have fun at college.”

“Yeah. Actually, I have almost the entire day off.”

Keith crossed his arms and glared at Lance.

“You have the day off? You should’ve let me drive Pidge. I offered.”

“And miss this?” Lance replied and took another - more careful - sip of his delicious drink. 

“I could’ve brought you a cup later.”

Lance shook his head. “No way. I’m a customer and we're not roommates with benefits.”

Keith’s eyes softened at his own words getting thrown back at him and he tapped his fingers against the counter.

“I might have made an exception.”

“Guess now I’ll never know.”

“Hmm.”

A hopeful smile spread on Keith’s face. 

“So... you’re free today?” he asked and Lance didn’t miss how eager he sounded. 

“I mean, I should be studying but, urgh, I need a break. I have a class this afternoon but I think I’m gonna skip it to spend the day, hmm, I don’t know, enjoying my very soft mattress? Why you asking?”

“Back when I was on campus, you begged me to give you a tour of my truck. I thought… if you still wanted to and had nothing else to do, you could get a glimpse of that working life.” Keith bit his lip waiting for Lance’s answer.

“Definitely sounds like roommates with benefits to me,” Lance teased him. Keith rolled his eyes but he smiled. “I’d love to, Keith.”

~~

Lance tried to justify his eager answer with his self-imposed task to keep a close eye on Keith. Well, make it two eyes. But there were some things he hadn’t anticipated. First, he actually had to work. It didn’t take long for both of them to realize that Lance was the opposite of a helpful hand. For the first two hours, he kept messing up drinks and failed at creating milk foam. Keith made him do simpler tasks until the morning rush hour was over.

“Lance, get your ass over here and fill up the cream.”

“Geez, on my way.”

Keith was bossy and didn’t shy away from showing it but Lance was oddly comfortable with getting ordered around. It was Keith’s business and he cared deeply about it. Nothing wrong with that. Also, the butterflies in Lance’s stomach admired the streak of authority that the barista displayed. Keith might not be a people-person at first sight but he could make a good leader.

When the morning rush hour of sleepy and stressed people was over, there was a natural low between 10 and 11 am. 

Naturally, Lance begged him to show him some foam art.

Keith almost lost it. 

“Do I look like someone who does foam art?? Do I??”

Lance had no other choice but to put out the big guns: his puppy eyes. It worked astonishingly well. A few minutes later, he was holding a cup with a hot chocolate (since he didn’t like coffee) with milk foam that showed…

“Oh my God, Keith, it’s a dog.”

The barista fidgeted with his fingers. “Yeah, I cannot do much but I thought-- I don’t know, I just really like… dogs?”

“It’s adorable.”

And it was. The face of a small puppy with long ears and a tongue slipping out smiled at him.

“It’s _really_ adorable.”

Just like you, Lance’s mind provided helpfully when he smiled at Keith who was flustered from the praise he received.

“Okay, now I will draw something for you.”

“I don’t like foam, Lance.”

“I know, Keithers, but the foam’s not the point, it’s the gesture. Now go - there’s another customer anyway - and let me try my little thing here, okay?”

~~

“Okay, done!”

Keith pointed at the clock above the vending window and stopped cleaning the counter.

“You needed twenty minutes. That better be a masterpiece,” he said and walked back to Lance when he was sure there wasn’t a new customer coming up.

Meanwhile, Lance flushed. And regretted all of his life choices, especially his last: settling on a subject to draw.

“Okay, lower your expectations, dude, it’s not the Mona Lisa.”

“The Mona Lisa isn’t even a masterpiece.” 

Lance blocked the view to the cup. “Now I certainly don’t wanna show you.”

“Come on, Lance.”

“Okay, for the record: It was hard. I tried different ideas but... yeah, it isn't the Mona Lisa. So, uh, that’s why I settled for something simple.”

Under Keith’s curious eyes, he turned around to get the cup and held it sheepishly in front of Keith’s face.

“Tataaaaa. For you.”

It was a heart, barely visible anymore. An ugly heart to be sure and there was caramel syrup sticking on the side of the cup and what on living earth had Lance been thinking?

Keith furrowed his brows. 

“Oh. I-- This is, uh--”

Lance sighed. “The worst.”

“--really good.”

“Hu? What?”

“I... uh, can see you tried your best.”

“Keith, the coffee’s cold, the cup is sticky and the milk foam has almost dissolved.”

“Still.”

Lance laughed loudly. 

“I appreciate your attempt at pushing my confidence but this is a losing battle, my friend.”

“Can I get the cup now? I think it belongs to me.”

“You don’t want to actually drink that, do you?” Lance asked but handed him the cup anyway.

Keith took a long sip.

“Is it good?”

“No.”

Lance giggled. 

“I told you! I don’t think I’ll ever get the Keith-approved-stamp.”

What followed, happened so fast Lance couldn’t react at all.

Keith pressed a shy kiss on his cheek.

“The Keith-approved-stamp,” he explained breathlessly. “You already got it.”

~~

If the clown from It had offered to float with him, Lance would have kindly declined because he was already floating all by himself. 

Keith had kissed him on the cheek. Just like that. Because of a shitty cup of coffee with the worst foam art the world had ever seen.

And the best thing: Lance had spent all morning with Keith and the guy wasn’t drunk, hashtag fact. But still, he was very unlike the Keith he used to know. Well, not in every aspect - there was still enough of him that reminded Lance of their campus time - but he was more _open_ than ever. More talkative and more responsive to Lance’s advances, because, of course, Lance took his behavior for encouragement and slipped in a few flirty lines.

Keith responded with smiles, eye-rolls and dismissive touches against Lance’s arm or shoulder. And blushes. 

Lance didn’t know what had happened. Keith went away and changed somehow, now he was back and-- would he stay? If Lance asked him out again, would he say yes this time? The signs were all there but… he had misinterpreted their relationship once before so was it really a good idea if the initiative came from him again? Maybe he should wait for Keith to ask him.

The next hour passed easily with Lance being in a stadium of floating and thinking and exchanging smiles with Keith before the mood dropped.

Lance was just busy refilling the machines with coffee beans when his attention was drawn away from the daydream he was just having to the conversation between Keith and a customer.

“What do you mean, you don’t have frappuccinos?” the voice of a man demanded to know. “You should make them, I want one."

Lance turned around just when Keith threw his hands up in the air and glared at the man in front of the window. Something had just snapped in his mind, Lance could tell.

“I don’t CARE about FRAPPUCCINOS,” Keith yelled and waved his arms furiously, “they’re not a real drink anyway, get lost!”

The man took a step back and pointed his fingers accusingly at the barista. "This is not how you treat a potential customer!" he spat out. “That’s bad for business.”

“I don’t wanna do any business with you!”

“But that’s against the--”

"I said GET LOST!" 

“Keith!” 

Lance dragged Keith in the back of the truck, away from the concerned looks of curious bystanders. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man doing a dismissive and rude hand gesture before stomping away. Lance had the presence of mind to give the next person in line an apologetic “one-minute” sign with his finger. In one thing the angry man had been right: yelling at customers wasn’t good for his business. He needed to do some damage control. Keith clearly wasn’t being himself right now.

Or was he?

Lance scanned his face. He looked exhausted.

“What?” the barista breathed heavily, his fingers impatiently tapping against the coffee bean bags next to him. 

Lance pressed his lips together. He had seen him being rude to customers before but it had usually been very subtle and also more than justified. This time it was as if Keith had been overshooting by miles. That was worrisome. 

“Buddy… Are you… alright?”

Keith ran a hand through his hair, messing up the ponytail for the tenth time this morning. 

“God, they annoy me so much.” 

“I hear ya, buddy. Customer service sucks. Hey, why don't you take a breather and I handle the next few customers, alright?”

Keith nodded bleakly. 

"Okay." 

Carefully, Lance maneuvered him into the little chair in the back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Keith mumbled apologetically and buried his face in his hands.

Before Lance was able to respond, the next customer cleared their throat loudly and he got back to work.

~~

Fifteen minutes seemed to be enough to calm Keith down and soon he was back at the front serving customers in way friendlier way than before, thanks to Lance taking over as soon as a customer started small-talk. Keith tended to the drinks, Lance took the orders. Now and then a customer was close to putting Keith off again, but Lance handled it brilliantly. 

They really made a good team.

Things were kind of normal for an entire hour and Lance had almost forgotten that Keith's behavior was somewhat off. They kept bumping together in the small space, moving each other around to get from A to B like in a stupid romcom and every touch sent jolts through Lance. 

Also, Lance just couldn’t forget the kiss on his cheek. The Keith-approved-stamp. 

He was in the middle of yet another daydream when the starring person appeared next to him, staring out of the window.

“Oh God, she’s here, _act casual_.”

Keith’s attempt to whisper failed miserably. It came out more than a muffled yell than anything else and Lance wondered who on Earth had the power to put Keith in such a frenzy. 

“What? What is it?” he asked and scanned the entrance of the nearby central station.

"Lance! Listen to me!” Keith grabbed the front of Lance’s shirt in his fist. “I cannot mess this up!"

Lance’s eyes darted to the vending window again. There was a woman approaching, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. Long blonde hair, a business suit, a nice smile. What--

Keith let go of him and whirled around.

“Hi,” the woman said friendly, “I’d like to have a latte macchiato with a shot of caramel, please.”

“Right away,” Keith answered but his voice wavered. Weird. “Lance, prepare the drink, I’ll be back in a sec.” He put a heavy hand on Lance’s shoulder. “This is important to me,” he whispered cryptically and without further hesitation, he pushed Lance a cup into his hand, maneuvered him to the coffee machine and left the truck through the back door.

Lance didn’t have a chance to be dumbfounded for too long before he heard the barista’s voice outside. 

“Hello pretty lady, how are you doing today? Good? Yeah? Yeahhhh, you’re good….”

Lance almost dropped the cup he was holding. 

Sure, he was supposed to make drinks but Keith flirting with a WOMAN was doing bad bad things to him, like, making him sick within the splinter of a second. A rush of anger and jealousy were being built up rather quickly inside his body. 

After taking a deep breath, he turned around and glimpsed outside the vending window. The woman was still leaning against the counter, waiting patiently for her drink to get prepared but Keith-- was gone?? Where did he--

No.

Keith was still there, right in front of the window, a few feet away from the woman. He was on his knees with a big fluffy dog sprawling on his back in front of him. 

“You get all the belly-rubs, all the belly-rubs you want,” he mumbled enthusiastically and petted the dog as if his life depended on it. “I would set this entire planet for you on fire, you know that, right?”

A bubble of relieved laughter came out of Lance’s mouth.

That guy… that guy was just--

Cute. 

The cutest shit he’d ever seen in his entire life.

Lance couldn’t take his eyes off of Keith cuddling with the dog. The barista was absolutely lost in the moment, not minding anybody else around him when he rubbed the belly of the puppy, ran his fingers over its ears and whispered sweet nonsense.

If he didn’t already have a crush on him, this would have been the final straw.

Lance was in the middle of internally debating whether he should film this scene for their future children to see one day (he was having a moment, okay) or not when the customer cleared her throat again.

“Oh, sorry,” Lance tried to apologize but the woman cut him short.

“It’s fine,” she said and flashed him a knowing smile after side glancing at Keith and her dog. “Your boyfriend’s good with dogs.”

“Yeah, he really is, he’s just--” 

ABORT.

“Your drink! I’ll be right back.”

With his back turned to the customer, he allowed his eyes to spring wide open. Sheer horror spread across his face. Did he just refer to Keith as his boyfriend? To a customer that was obviously a regular? Should he take it back? Maybe she hadn’t even noticed his little slip-up and bringing attention to it would only make things worse. Oh God. 

Lance had prepared the drink quicker than his mind would’ve liked because, by the time he turned back to the counter, he still didn’t know what to do.

Apparently though, his brain short-circuited and handed out the latte macchiato with a wise “he’s not my boyfriend”.

“Oh. Okay. Do you think he says yes if I ask him--”

“He’s gay! Very gay!” 

Apparently, Lance’s brain-to-mouth filter had been hijacked by his emotions. Great. The woman’s voice fell flat as she narrowed her eyes.

“If I ask him to dogsit my labrador sometime when I visit my _girlfriend_ next month?”

“What-- that was mean!”

The woman tilted her head and took a sip of her drink.

“Was it though?” She grinned at him. “Good luck.”

After having a brief - sadly for Lance inaudible - conversation with Keith, she motioned her dog to follow her but not without Keith throwing his arms around the labrador for an almost tearful goodbye-hug. 

But when he entered the truck again, he wore the brightest smile on his face.

“Her name's Nala and I love her,” Keith sighed as he washed his hands and Lance quickly dismissed the awkward feeling the woman’s words had given him.

“I could very much see that,” he chuckled.

“No, you have to understand, Lance, I love her. I would DIE for her!” Tears pooled in Keith’s eyes as he grabbed Lance’s shoulders, shaking them softly. “She’s _everything_!”

God, Lance wanted to kiss him.

“Well, she already has an owner. Maybe you should, I don’t know, get a dog of your own?”

“I should--” Keith’s eyes lit up, focusing on Lance only inches away. His hands slipped up to cup his cheeks, anticipation written all over his face. Lance held his breath.

He _really_ wanted to kiss him.

“Are you saying I can get a dog? You’d allow one in your flat??” Keith’s eyes flickered over Lance’s face, trying to find a sign of doubt. But how could Lance decline him anything that made him that happy.

“Sure,” he breathed, painfully aware of how close Keith’s face was to his. Frozen in place, he tried not to do anything stupid, like leaning in or pushing away. Thankfully, the butterflies in his stomach seemed to hold him in place. “We can check out the animal shelter next week.”

Keith exhaled a long breath and slowly lowered his head to lean his forehead against Lance’s chest. Which was a bad idea, Lance thought, with his heart making sounds like a crazed sledgehammer. Before he could decide on what to say, Lance felt something wet on his shirt. Carefully, he put one hand on Keith’s back.

“Are you-- crying?”

“Maybe.”

Lance drew in a sharp breath. Shit. He’d screwed up. He wasn’t sure how or what exactly but what else was to blame except him.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“This is why it’s you.”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or several, he wasn’t sure.

“What?” he croaked.

This time, Keith didn’t dismiss his question.

“This is why it’s you,” he repeated, his voice muffled but still audible. “You make me so happy, Lance.”

“Because I don’t mind having a dog in my apartment?”

“Because you’re you.”

With these words, Keith leaned back to look at Lance… whose words got stuck in his throat. Not that he had an idea of what to respond to this answer anyway. 

There were leftover tears glistening in Keith’s eyes but his facial expression was soft and calm, almost relieved. But also exhausted.

Yes, Lance still wanted to kiss Keith… and for a moment - just for one moment - he thought he should just lean a bit forward and see how Keith reacted, just an inch… maybe Keith--

Keith quickly leaned forward and pressed another little kiss on Lance’s cheek.

“But also because of the dog, yeah,” he grinned.

A second later, he was serving the next customer in line, leaving Lance slightly stunned and confused.

Oh. And incredibly happy.

What a day.

~~

“That was fun, man,” Lance chuckled as he took the key out of his bag. Keith returned the smile in silence. “So… here we are.” His fingers fumbled with the keychain. “Thanks for showing me your truck.”

“Thanks for the help. Thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime.”

They were standing in the hallway in front of Lance’s apartment and Lance was a nervous wreck. The day had been amazing. Aside from the fact that Keith had suffered from severe mood swings, whenever the two of them were alone, things had been bliss. They had closed the truck a few hours ago, cleaned it together and grabbed something to eat in a nearby diner. And Keith had talked. Sometimes he had initiated entire conversations and that was a new.

And everything had been as easy as breathing.

The only incident that had occurred was when a couple with a dog wanted to enter the diner and the waiter insisted on their only-service-dogs-allowed-policy. Keith had almost thrown hands. Like, for real.

It was a wonder they hadn’t got thrown out.

Keith refused to tip which was a bit harsh since it hadn’t been the waiter’s fault. Lance tipped for both of them instead. But, yeah, except that little thing, it had been wonderful. Because.

It had felt like a date.

A date Lance had asked Keith for 2 months and 4 days ago.

Weird how everything had picked up speed between them. Had they really only met again the day before? And now they spent time with the other? Had fun? Ended up together in front of Lance’s apartment?

“Maybe we can… ah… “ He rubbed the back of his head. “Maybe we can, like, do stuff like that again? Some time?”

Maybe go on another date.

“I’d love to.”

“Cool.” Lance shuffled his feet. “I text you, then?”

Keith nodded. “Can’t wait.”

“Cool,” Lance repeated breathlessly. “Well then… good night, Keith.” 

For a moment, he stared at Keith, waiting for something else to happen, something he’d seen so many times in movies when two people ended up at someone’s front door after… a date? Had it been a date? Or just--

“Uh, can you unlock the door? It’s cold here.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “I didn’t expect you to-- ah, of course! You can totally come in. I can make us some, uh, coffee? Beer? Juice?”

Keith stared at him incredulously. For a moment, Lance expected rejection but then a timid smile appeared on Keith’s face. “I live here, too, Lance.”

“Oh.” 

“But thanks for the invitation.” 

Okay, this little fact had indeed slipped Lance’s mind and he expected things to get really awkward really soon. But none of that happened. Keith excused himself to the bathroom and Lance spent some time cleaning the dishes to distract him and calm his mind.

It was 8 pm. He hadn't studied that day which was really bad. Keith left the bathroom in his pajamas, his hair not in a ponytail anymore but falling down on his shoulders. He had tried to tame it, Lance noticed. He had almost succeeded. He made a mental note to _not_ tell him how cute he looked.

“Are those… dogs on your pajamas?” Lance asked.

Keith looked down on himself, rather self-consciously, as if he noticed the pattern for the first time.

“Uh, yeah. French terriers. I… was in a mood.”

“Cute.” 

Apparently, someone had shredded Lance’s mental note.

“I love them, too.”

Lance had totally been referring to the dogs as well. Obviously. D'uh. Quickly, he excused himself to get ready for bed, kind of hoping Keith would have gone into his room by then. However, when he left the bathroom a few minutes later, also dressed for a good night’s sleep, Keith was still awake and drying the dishes Lance had cleaned before.

“Soooo…” he said and Keith turned around and put the towel over the heater.

“So?”

Lance pointed at his door. “Just wanted to say good night. I’m, you know, going to bed and all that jazz.”

Keith smiled.

“All that jazz? Like?”

Lance shrugged. Was this an investigation or something? Why was it so hot in his flat? Could Keith stop looking at him? Where were the emergency exists? 

“Working on my paper for a bit, then sleeping, dreaming, haha, you know.”

Fuck, why was he so nervous all of a sudden? He’d spent all day with Keith and until now, he thought he had done a decent job in keeping his feelings in check. But the cork that had been holding them down was this close to pop.

“I know.” Keith smiled at him fondly and walked up to him. “Well, I’m gonna dream of you.”

“What?” Lance shrieked. That was too much. “You can’t just say things like-”

“Your inability to make milk foam will haunt me in my sleep,” Keith stated drily. “I told you so.” A soft punch landed on Lance’s shoulder. Okay, he was just teasing, that was a good thing, right?

“Ouch.” Lance made a show of rubbing his hurt shoulder. “Okay, me and my ego will go to bed now.”

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

Keith pressed his lips together, a frown visible on his forehead. 

“Was this... a good day for you?” 

Lance tilted his head. It appeared as if the seemingly easy question cost Keith some difficulty. 

“Yes, most definitely. The coolest.”

“Despite me being… “

“Being what?”

“A mess? Weird? Kind of… emotional?”

Keith squinted before he shut his eyes for good, waiting for a verdict. Interesting… so he had been aware that he had acted differently than usual? Lance took a step towards him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“You don’t take any shit from customers, you love dogs, you, uh, know what you want. That doesn’t make you a mess. That makes you-- you. And… “ Lance swallowed. “You’re pretty great.”

Keith took a shuttered breath and opened his eyes again.

“You said I knew what I wanted,” he said quietly. “Do _you_ know what I want?” There was a heavy silence between them. 

Lance shook his head.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

“Ask what?”

“What I want?”

Lance’s voice was a strangled whisper. “What do you want?”

Keith took a deep breath. 

"You.”

“Oh.”

"I like you a lot, Lance."

If Lance’s stomach was an elevator, it would have crashed to the ground before flipping over and taking weird turns through his body. His mouth went dry. 

“I like you so much that it's really hard not to kiss you,” Keith said and wow, when did he get so close? “Not kissing you is harder than not to yell at the frappuccino guy."

"But… you _did_ yell at the frappuccino guy."

"Exactly."

The tension between them rose to an unbearable level.

"Does this mean... you're gonna kiss me?" 

"Not if you don't want to." Lance raised an eyebrow in question so Keith elaborated. "I said it was hard, not that I was incapable of stopping myself."

“Then don’t,” Lance whispered. “Don’t stop yourself.”

Lance’s brain short-circuited when Keith slowly leaned into his space, giving him an opportunity to stop but a moment later, he’d found himself leaning forward too until their lips gently brushed together.

He felt his fingers getting interlocked with Keith’s and he downright melted into the kiss that followed. Two months of heartbreak were healed in an instance. 

“Thanks for that,” Keith breathed against Lance’s lips before he slowly leaned back. Lance barely got a look at Keith’s flushed face, he felt too dizzy to open his eyes properly. 

“Oh, you get a little bit more for your trouble.” His mumbled words drowned out when he pulled him closer and Keith’s lips found his again. 

“My trouble?” Keith asked between kisses.

“Of having me… messing up your drinks.”

Keith snickered. “So… much… trouble.”

“So… much.”

Lance was in heaven. He had the boy of his dreams in his arms. They were kissing. And those cute little sighs Keith made stirred the butterflies in his stomach even more.

But.

The happiness only lasted until Keith mumbled something else between their kisses.

“Everything... is so clear…. since we met again.”

Lance smirked. “Just because of Pidge’s bugs.”

“Yeah, I’m still sorry about the bug... What was its name? BB-8?” Keith chuckled.

Rapidly, Lance leaned back. The bug. BB-8. The salvia. Keith telling him several times he was feeling “under the weather”. The mood swings.

Suddenly, everything fell into place.

Something _was_ wrong with Keith. _Severely_ wrong.

“What do you--- what do you mean, everything is so clear?” Lance asked, trying to stay calm, especially when he was confronted with a pout.

“This,” Keith explained by pressing another kiss on Lance’s lips. This time, the kiss felt wrong, at least in Lance’s mind. 

“What about before?” he asked and subtly held the other boy back. “Before yesterday?”

“Everything was dark. Now it’s bright.”

Lance stared at him.

Oh no. It only confirmed his suspicion. 

“That’s, ah, nice to hear,” he stammered, “Oh damn. I just remembered that I have, uhh, an important presentation tomorrow, so I should probably…” He pointed towards his room. “Alright?”

~~

Lance fell back on his bed. Not only deflated but also mortified. Keith didn't actually like him back, he was just under some kind of spell, a drug, caused by BB-8’s mysterious salvia.

It had required a lot of energy to convince Keith that nothing was wrong between them after Lance had told him they should call it a day and head to bed. 

Yes, he did want to kiss him, yes, he liked him, yes, yes. 

Yes.

And after a last brief kiss, Keith seemed to be satisfied.

It wasn’t even a lie. He wanted all those things, wanted to be with Keith. But not when he wasn’t himself. Not when he was influenced by something that made him act against his will.

“I’m going to hell,” Lance grunted into his pillow. Thankfully, sleep took him quickly away from the guilt that pulsed through his veins.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, what about your project? Do you already know what the Battlestar Galactica bug's drool does?”

“Star Wars.”

“Nerd.”

Lance was a good actor if he wasn’t standing in front of his crush, so starting a casual conversation with Pidge next morning was easy peasy. Hidden between some ‘I’m so tired’s and bad jokes about him pretending to be Jason Statham in The Transporter, he had dropped The Question. He kept his eyes fixed on the street in front of him, trying to not let show how important the following answer was to him: Keith’s well-being depended on it.

“I have different ideas and theories that need my attention,” Pidge simply stated, their voice indicating that they were too tired to explain Lance any details.

So Lance pushed. “Like? Come on, if I’m helping you save the world I wanna know about it!”

Pidge grimaced. “Sorry to disappoint. The most probable thing is some sort of aphrodisiac I managed to isolate in the salvia.”

Oh, this is just fantastic.

Fucking fantastic.

“Uh, you mean, uhhh, like-- like a love drug?” 

Maybe he had heard it wrong...?

“Yeah, like a love drug.”

Or not…

“But I’m not sure,” Pidge continued. 

“How come?”

”My first control bugs, they, uhm, were all over each other, if you get my drift. I’ll probably have to build a small cradle for the little bug children soon.”

Lance made a strangled sound.

“Sorry, got something stuck in my throat,” he explained weakly and motioned his hand as a sign for Pidge to continue. 

“Anyway. But when I tested it with two other bugs, they were _also_ all over each other but in a... cannibalistic way. I don’t know where the difference lies. What I know is that it brings out some strong reactions in the test subjects. It appears to be a 50:50 chance if the bugs like or hate each other. Weird.”

Lance sent a silent prayer to heaven. What if Keith had wanted to kill him? Well, that would have been… awkward, to say the least. Good thing that hadn’t happened. Yet? Could it change??

“Yeah, weird, right. So,” Lance smacked his hand on the top of the steering wheel, trying to forget the murderous bugs, “how do you reverse it?”

“Reverse what?”

“How do you undo the, uh, effect? Of the salvia?”

Save me, Pidge Wan Kenobi you’re my only hope. They were smart, they would figure it out.

But Pidge said “That’s not my priority right now,” effectively crushing Lance’s last sparkle of optimism in a single sentence. “Besides, I only gave them a very small dose so it dissolved in the bloodstream after some days and the effect was lost. It isn’t necessary at the moment.”

Ohhh. That sounded good.

“How long would it take for, uhh, a human to get back to normal after having a dose? Let’s, ah, let’s be crazy and say a full bug dose. Body contact.”

“Awww, Lance.”

“What?” he asked nervously. Did they know--

“Are you still worried about me?” Pidge softly patted his arm. “I’m always wearing gloves.”

“But what if they ripped?” Lance wasn’t giving up that easily. “Hypothetically?”

“Hmm.” Pidge did some counting in their head. “I’d say about… one month? To get it out of my system without any traces left. Yeah. One month.”

~~

The first thing Lance did was turning off his phone. Temptation was too high. He might risk doing something stupid, like texting Keith. 

Fact was: Keith hadn’t tried to kill him which was a plus to his current health status. But the other undeniable fact was that they had kissed. Or more specifically, Keith had asked Lance if he could kiss him and Lance, stupid love-sick Lance, had agreed. He should’ve listened to the voice in his brain that repeatedly had mentioned how strange Keith had acted around him since they’d met again.

He should’ve listened. He should’ve known. Keith wasn’t himself. Some weird bug salvia had made him do it. 

So Lance decided to keep his distance until the effect began to cease. He spent all day at college, trying to latch onto any distraction he could get, even if it involved listening to his professors and taking notes. His grades needed the extra attention in class anyway. After his last class, he hid in the library until he got kicked out. 

Alright.

One month.

One month until Keith’s body would expel the drugs. One month, what was one month even? Keith was going to be fine, just fiiiiiiine. A bit “under the weather”, as he liked to tell Lance, but that was it. Sure, he seemed to be a bit emotional the last few days but come on, it was Keith. He was going to be fine. _Just. Fine._

As long as Lance didn’t act upon Keith’s advances. 

And didn’t kiss him. Again. That was a no-no.

Hence the turned-off phone. Not necessarily less temptation but the dark screen of his cell phone reminded him of his pledge to leave Keith alone. He promised himself to check in with his roommate tonight, see if he was still doing alright despite BB-8’s (rip) salvia. And if he needed help, sure, Lance would help, in a friendly-roommate kinda way, but if Keith said he was fine, hell, then great. Lance would leave him alone. 

‘This my dance space, this is your dance space.’ There was no way Patrick Swayze’s advice would fail him.

When Lance came home this evening, proud and low-key optimistic about his plan, he found his roommate sitting on the couch. A documentary was running on TV. 

It looked normal.

Normal was good.

"Hello,” Lance greeted him after he had dropped his backpack and slipped out of his shoes and jacket. Heck, he felt normal when he walked up to the couch, ready for some roommate-like chit-chat. 

But then Keith’s head turned around and… he _glared_ at him.

Okay, not normal…?

Oh fuck, Lance was about to get killed, wasn’t he? 

"You didn't answer my texts."

The sound of Keith’s voice disrupted Lance’s train of thought. He sounded accusing, his entire bodily posture was tense and his eyes… now that he took a longer look, Lance found both anger and disappointment in them. And… hurt?

"I was… studying,” he explained himself but even in his own ears, the justification sounded weak.

"And I was worried.” Keith’s voice broke and somehow that was worse than the thought of Keith killing him. “I thought something happened to you. And when I called Pidge, they also didn't know where you were. They tried calling you but your phone was turned off."

"Oh.” 

Lance frowned. He hadn’t thought about Pidge. They were stuck in the zoo all day anyway and them not texting each other until evening wasn’t unusual since his friend tended to get carried away with their project way too often, forgetting everything else around them.

But Pidge not being able to reach him? Him, Lance, who was on his phone pretty much 24/7? Not good.

“Fuck,” Lance groaned. “I just-- I turned it off to study. Oh my God, they probably freaked out.”

" _I_ was the one freaking out in the first place!” Keith shouted and hammered his hand against his chest. Lance froze in place as pure anger radiated off his roommate. “I was the one who thought-- the worst things! If you had just--" He paused, still breathing heavily, and then his voice softened. "And on top of everything… after yesterday… I thought I did something wrong…?"

Keith let the question hang between them and stared down at his hands in his lap. A part of Lance wanted to sit down next to him but he kept his distance, standing on the other side of the coffee table.

"Wrong?" he asked quietly. “What do you mean?”

"When I kissed you,” Keith replied equally quietly. “I think I might have pressured you into something. And you regret it now. That’s why you… avoid me."

Lance couldn’t help himself: a bubble of panicky laughter slipped his mouth.

"You think _you_ pressured _me_?” he asked incredulously, rapidly pointing his finger between him and the other. “Oh Keith, no. Not at all. I wanted it. I just… ah.” He pressed his lips together. Nope, not good. It definitely wasn’t the time nor the place for a confession. “We shouldn't… have done that. Logically. Keith, buddy, you're not yourself right now."

The boy in question raised an eyebrow at Lance. 

"Why… why would you say that?" Though his facial expressions indicated anger, his eyes betrayed him. He was hurt. 

"You kissed me,” Lance tried to explain. 

"So?" 

"Against your will." Lance shut down Keith’s attempt to protest with a strict voice. "You're… sick, Keith. And that, uh, clouds your judgment."

Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Just because I feel a little bit sick the last few days doesn't mean I'm a different person. Or is it your way to say ‘It’s you, not me?’ but in a gentle way? Because it’s not gentle. You don’t have to come up with excuses to get rid of me, okay? Just say an honest word and I leave you alone.”

Oh Lord, this was getting out of hand.

Lance tried a different approach.

"Okay, see… I don’t want to get rid of you. It’s that you're _too nice_ to me which is… not you.”

Keith’s angry eyes drilled into Lance. "Well, clearly I'm pissed at you right now.”

"Yeah, which honestly doesn't make any sense now that you mention it." Lance scratched the back of his head. _Nothing_ made any sense.

"I thought I just explained why I was angry with you! It makes perfect sense!" 

"That wasn’t what I meant,” he mumbled but shut up when Keith’s eyes almost popped out, probably ready to kill him. “Okay. Listen, okay? Listen, I'm sorry, man. I shouldn’t have turned off my phone, not after, you know, yesterday. I was… I was overwhelmed. Maybe got a bit too anxious. Because-- ah."

Fuck. He wasn’t getting out of this, was he? Keith deserved an explanation and the only way was to tell him how much he liked him. That this kiss was more to him than it probably was for Keith.

“You see, I-- I really--”

“Actually, it’s fine,” Keith interrupted him and deflated. With his shoulders slumped, he looked even smaller on the couch. “I overreacted. I'm a bit… I feel a lot lately. Like, my senses are heightened. I can’t stop _feeling_ things. All the time."

He motioned towards the used tissues on the floor in front of him.

"Have you been crying?" Lance asked cautiously.

"Well, yes, but not only because of you.” He pointed a finger at Lance. “Keep your ego small, I cried mostly because Pippo moves away."

Lance froze.

"Who's Pippo?" 

"The Husky in flat 5C."

What?

"And… the husky moves?" 

"Yes, to Baton Rouge."

"Pippo the Husky in flat 5C moves to Baton Rouge."

Keith threw a hand in the air. "Yes, did I stutter?" 

"And… that made you cry? Didn’t you only move in like two days ago? How can you already have bonded with a husky?" 

"He's a good dog, okay??" Keith whined and let his arms helplessly fall next to him on the couch. “I don’t want to lose him. I hate losing people and dogs I love.” He leaned his head against the backrest and closed his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to be... not myself again,” he threw Lance’s words back at him.

“Don’t say that, I didn’t mean it. Now come on!” Lance clapped his hands, getting Keith’s attention back when the latter squinted one eye open.

"Okay. Well, if he's important to you, we can buy him a farewell present."

The other eye sprung open, too, and Keith sat up straight. "A farewell present?" 

"Yes! This way, he will always remember you as the nice neighbor Keith who once gave him a tasty snack or a plush toy. A part of you will, ah, always be with him.”

"You think he will remember me?" 

"Of course!" 

Keith's expression softened and Lance dared to take a relieved breath. What kind of rollercoaster did Keith get on? Was this still the bug’s fault?

"Okay. Yeah, that's a good idea, I guess,” Keith said and offered him a smile. As much as Lance liked to see Keith smile, the sudden change of emotions displayed in his friend worried him. Anger, sadness, happiness? In one go? As far as he knew Keith from their time together on campus, Keith never showed many emotions. It was rare to even see him laugh - which was Lance’s favorite thing trying to do - but right now? Emotions appeared in a row. One after another. And Keith was seemingly unable to control them. They just poured out of him.

"Hey Keith.” Lance walked closer and sat down on the coffee table, his knees almost touching Keith’s. “Are you okay…? It's like you're a bit overwhelmed. Do you… wanna talk about it?"

Keith nodded. Up close, he looked tired. Exhausted, even. Like he hadn’t gotten much sleep lately.

“I yelled at six customers today,” he began with a monotone voice. “And I threw one empty cup at someone. Another customer was wearing a perfume that… reminded me of... someone I lost and I had to close the truck for an hour because-- I couldn’t... “

“You cried?”

“I cried,” Keith mumbled. “Later, it took me two hours to get home because I had to pull over and stop whenever I saw a dog. I think I scared a guy when he saw me running towards his dog but, Lance, the dog was beautiful. I had to pet him!”

“Yeah, sure, I understand, buddy.”

Not really. This was even worse than Lance had expected. 

“I… It was so hard to control myself. I’m feeling so so much lately. And when I got home, I was so worried about you, about _us_ , if there's even an 'us' because usually, I'm not part of an 'us', I'm only 'me' and until I met you, being on my own was fine but now I want an 'us', like, with you and that scares me and I'm angry and sad because I don’t think this will happen, that I deserve this to happen, that I deserve you in any way, not after how I acted when I left…” Keith took a deep breath. “I’m so angry and disgusted by myself for feeling like a mess and even more by telling you about this.”

Keith buried his face in his hands.

“Why am I talking so much?” he muffled. “Why?? Please, make it stop, Lance, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Hey, Keith, don’t be angry at yourself for opening up to someone. It’s a good thing. I want you to talk to me.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you, don’t you understand?” Suddenly, Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and stood up, pulling him up with him. “Lance,” he said with a shaky voice, “I can’t even stop _thinking_ about you. I'm so much in lo--”

“Keith!! Hey!! Heeey.” 

Keith blankly stared at him and thankfully, THANKFULLY stopped talking when Lance started shaking their hands. 

“Wow, okay, you need to take a deep breath, okay. And, uh, let’s sit down and-- oh.”

Keith sat down next to him on the couch and threw his legs over Lance’s lap, his face pressing against Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, it’s so hard. I feel sad and happy and angry and… I don’t know, I feel everything all at once.”

“It’s fine,” Lance assured him and wrapped his arms around him. “Let’s just sit here for a while and watch some documentaries and tomorrow, we’ll find a solution, okay?”

“Okay.”

Keith fell asleep half an hour into the documentary about deep-sea fish. Lance, however, was a mess. Thoughts were racing through his mind. Had he just stopped Keith from… telling him how he felt towards Lance? Did his crush almost said he, gulp, was in love with him? The world had turned upside down.

Sleep wasn’t an option and he most certainly didn’t want to move. Keith needed some rest more than ever. In an attempt to take his mind off of things for a while, he took out his phone and hit the power button.

Well, he probably should’ve stuck to watching documentaries because his phone immediately vibrated, shooting through the messages he hadn’t received yet.

Lance gulped.

5 messages from Hunk

7 messages from Pidge and 2 missed calls

66 messages from Keith

He skimmed through Hunk’s and Pidge’s first, sending off some lame “I was studying” replies.

Then he opened his chat with Keith. It began around 7 am in the morning and ended half an hour before Lance got back home.

Keith:

**morning… thank you for…**

**you know**

**last night.**

**you helped me a lot. in the truck. and it was fun. i needed that.**

**it's all a blur, i think i'm getting sick. my head hurts and all, i barely remember anything. hope i wasn't too weird.**

**heading to work now**

**how's your day so far? :)**

**if you have a break, we can meet up?**

**or better not, i don't want you to become sick too.**

**i fell into a dog video hole on youtube**

**which is my life, really.**

**look at this husky saying i love you :) [link attached]**

**ohhh a kitten joins the dog pack!! i'm serious, you need to watch this [link attached]**

**how was the presentation by the way? did you drink enough water today?**

**i miss you**

***r help in the truck**

**typo**

**it’s a lot today**

**do you think a husky is too loud? they howl very loudly.**

**since you're not replying, i assume you're studying very hard :) proud of you**

**not that you need me to be proud of you, just saying**

**dog names, go!!**

**okay, i start:**

**never mind, i cannot think of a good one**

**you decide, okay?**

**i can veto though…! just making that clear.**

**it wasn't a typo btw.**

**i do miss you…**

**is that weird?**

**work’s bad today. people suck pretty much. can i just vanish?**

**i closed the truck earlier.**

**oh WATCH THIS (woman rescues dogs!! i cried.) [link attached]**

**do you know when you'll be home? i want to invite you to dinner, we can order something you like, what do you say?**

**are you okay?**

**i'm getting worried, lance.**

**can you reply real quick so i know you're just super busy but alive?**

**i'm worried lance**

**is it because i said i missed you?**

**i'm sorry.**

**of course i remember last night.**

**It’s not a blur at all.**

**is it because we kissed? Is that why you don’t reply?**

**did i say something stupid last night? i was a bit out of it.**

**on a scale from 1 to 10, how hard is it to type "i'm ok" in your phone**

**are you kidnapped?**

**you better be kidnapped.**

**no, i don't mean that.**

**are you okay? are we good?**

**i pushed you into kissing me, didn’t i. shit. and now you hate me.**

**i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. It doesn’t have to be weird, let me fix this, please.**

**just tell me you’re okay and we talk tonight.**

**i wait up for you.**

**lance?**

**please.**

**i'm gonna ask pidge.**

**they said they don’t know where you are!!!**

**lance are you okay????**

**pidge made some calls and apparently someone saw you in the library so i guess you’re just busy**

**and ignoring everyone**

**or just me?**

**can we talk tonight? please.**

**i’m scared of work tomorrow. it’s too much. i don’t know what to do.**

**did i screw things up between us?**

**do you think dogs like me or just pretend to like me?**

**i miss my parents.**

**why does my heart hurt so much**

**i miss you.**

~~~~~

It's 5 am in the morning when Lance managed to sneak out of Keith's embrace. His feelings had been holding him back. Falling asleep with Keith snuggling exhausted against his chest had been both beautiful and the saddest thing, especially after he’d scrolled through the entire chat that painted a painful picture of Keith’s current state of mind.

There was one thing Lance was absolutely sure about: Keith couldn't possibly go on for another day, much less a whole month, the way he was now.

No more pretending things would work out somehow. So Lance tiptoed into the bathroom, called Pidge, briefly explained there was a Keith-mercency and waited until they were awake enough to agree to walk the two blocks to his apartment. 

~~

“What is wrong with him?”

Thankfully, Keith had disappeared into his room to change his clothes when Pidge arrived and Lance sat them down to talk them through the events of the last days.

“He says he feels too much all the time,” he began. “When he’s angry, he acts upon it, like, threatening customers. When he’s sad or very happy, he immediately cries, even over small things, like Pippo the dog moving away.”

“Okay, but Pippo is a good dog.”

Lance threw his hands up in the air. “Why does everyone know this dog but me?” he whined. “Anyway. You remember him being curled up in my bed? Keith, not the, uh, dog.”

“I remember.”

“He told me why. He said it was because he… had missed me.” Lance buried his head in his hands and began to ramble. “And I knew he was acting strange but then he flirted with me and I went to work with him and we had fun and back home we kinda made out until… until he said something that made me freak out and I tried to avoid him because I thought time will heal everything but then he had a nervous breakdown yesterday and I know he needs help and that’s why you’re here.”

“Uhh, much input, Lance??” 

“I know…”

“See, I’m not a doctor. He should definitely see a--”

“No, you’re the right person to talk to. Listen… I’m gonna jump right to the end. It only came to me when… well, after he kissed me… he said - and I quote - everything was clear since we met. And that everything before was… dark.”

Pidge tilted their head. “I don’t get it. Isn’t that one of your pick-up lines? Don’t tell me you thought it was too cheesy now?”

“No, no. It’s-- there was a change. Something happened to him and I think I figured it out. Look, the day Keith and I met again-- There’s something I didn’t tell you.” Lance grimaced, shooting them an apologetic look before he’d even said it. “Actually, I kinda lied. Big time.”

Here goes nothing.

“Keith killed BB-8. With his bare hand.”

Pidge blinked once, then twice, then--

“You gotta be kidding me. Lance! For fuck’s sake, you should’ve--”

“Sorry about the bug but I can’t have insects in my truck or I lose my permit.”

The two of them hurled around.

Keith was standing in the doorframe of his room, dressed in his coffee truck uniform and sporting a wary expression and his signature move: crossed arms.

“It’s a health thing,” he added.

“Oha, hey Keith.”

“Why are you talking about me?” He tilted up his chin, looking rather grim. “I don’t like it when people talk about me behind my back.” 

“I think you’ve been drugged.”

“Drugged?”

Lance turned back to Pidge. 

“At first, I thought he was just a bit tipsy or something, I mean, he said he was feeling kinda sickish so I thought this might be the reason. But yesterday… he was suffering from feeling too much, all at once. You should’ve seen what he texted me throughout the day… and I didn’t know what to do, I just--”

Memories of an exhausted Keith sleeping in his arms after the most stressful day came back to him. 

“I don’t want him to suffer.”

“I don’t suffer when I’m with you.”

Lance gulped and pointed at Keith. “See?” he said to Pidge. “Another reaction: Something must have snapped in his brain. He acts as if he… likes me or something.”

"I do more than liking you, Lance.”

"Did you hear that? That has to be the aphrodisiac you mentioned. And I just happened to be the first human he’s seen. Isn’t that how things like that work?? Like in Fly Away Home when the goslings accept that girl as their mother because she was the first thing they saw after they hatched? But like, not that Keith is a goose but, you know…??" 

Pidge’s eyes widened in horror, then understanding, then excitement.

“Oh my God. Lance. I have an idea. Give me a sec.” They lowered their gaze, apparently seeing the Matrix numbers flashing in front of their eyes, mumbling something unintelligible and accessing the database inside their head. Or something. Lance kept quiet. He knew better than to interrupt them when they were coming up with a hopeful genius plan.

“Okay,” Pidge said after a moment. “Just to be clear: You just said he feels more than usual, uhh, could you expand on that? Did I understand it right: He’s never been angry and now he is? Like, the salvia made him feel--”

"You do realize I'm sitting right here, yeah?"

Lance ignored Keith, had to ignore him. He would thank him later. Hopefully.

“No! He was _always_ somewhat angry at the customers, easily got pissed off and all in the past, but he never acted that strongly upon it. Same as he _always_ had a soft spot for dogs but never cried about them.”

“In public,” Keith clarified. “Never cried _in public_.”

“I’m trying to help your case here, Keith!”

“I fail to see how I am a case,” Keith huffed.

“Basically,” Pidge began to summarize, mostly for themselves, and the two boys fell quiet, “he acts upon his feelings instead of ignoring or filtering them. He can hardly regulate them, if not even fails completely at trying.”

“But that was what I’ve been telling you. He feels too much and can't handle it.”

“You said two different things, Lance.” Pidge held up the palm of their right hand. “First, you said he was always feeling angry or happy in those certain situations but now he was unable to regulate his emotions.” They held up the palm of the other hand. “Then, you said he _thinks_ he likes you.”

“Yeah, the love drug!”

Slowly, Pidge put the palms of their hands together.

“Get it?” they ask and clapped a few times. 

Lance stared at them blankly. 

“Pidge, I don’t have time for your jokes. Keith is suffering. I’m not that awful that I want him to be, like... in love with me against his will if that’s what you’re suggesting with that--” He copied her handclaps. “Is that an innuendo or--”

“Oh my fucking God, Lance, no!!! Don’t you get it that-- " Pidge stopped as they caught Keith’s eyes. Lance tried to understand their wordless conversation but failed. What was going on? "You know,” Pidge continued. “Actually, it's not my place."

"To what?" 

"To talk to you about Keith."

“But that’s why you're here!” Lance insisted. “To help Keith!”

“And I will! But from now on, there will be some doctor-patient-confidentiality.” 

“Seriously??”

Keith shifted nervously next to them. 

"Thank you, Pidge. I don't like it when you talk about me like I'm not here or dismiss everything I say. I’m still me, you know. I’m not an alien.”

Lance wiggled his hand and made a mehhh sound.

“Lance,” Pidge reprimanded him.

"Sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

Lance sighed. 

“You’re right. Keith, I’m sorry. I’m… a bit _too_ worried about you, I guess.”

“S’alright…” he murmured, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. "Just like I’ve been too worried about you yesterday, right? Makes us even. So what do we do now?" 

Pidge propped their fists against their waist. "We're going to the zoo."

~~

“Did it-- did it work?”

“I’m not sure.”

Pidge and Lance eyed Keith who sat on the only chair in the terrarium’s backroom. Traces of blue gel were left on his hand where his skin hadn’t absorbed it yet. 

And they were waiting.

Just waiting.

The silence was suffocating. 

It had all happened very fast. Pidge had promised Keith to find a cure, something to undo BB-8’s effects, and a few minutes later, Lance had been driving them to the zoo. It was still early in the morning but this time, Lance was wide awake. While Pidge had been doing their magic and created some gel with extracts of their control bugs and some leftover pieces of BB-8, Lance had been sitting next to Keith on the cold floor. His arm had been wrapped around the tired boy’s body who had fallen asleep again with his head resting on Lance’s shoulder. 

This would all be over soon, Lance had thought and relished feeling the warmth of his crush next to him as long as Keith still liked being close to him. Keith deserved to be in control of his feelings and emotions, at least as best as possible, and most certainly didn’t deserve to be infected by a nasty love bug.

However, when Pidge had finished creating an antidote gel and sat Keith down in the chair, waiting for them to apply it, Lance had felt his heart hurt a tiny bit. It felt like losing him the second time. But it was the right thing to do, no doubt about it.

He couldn’t stop staring at Keith whose eyes were shut as the three of them waited for the gel to do its magic.

“When will we know if it worked?” Lance whispered after a few minutes had passed.

“I guess we just have to-- ask him.” Pidge gently touched Keith’s arm. “Hey Keith. You okay? How are you?

Finally, Keith opened his eyes. He looked slightly disoriented. 

“Good,” he said breathlessly and nodded. “I think it worked.”

“So you feel different?”

He pressed his hand against his forehead. “Like someone poured cold water over my head.” He grunted. “I feel very awake.”

Lance took a step towards him, fidgeting with his fingers. “Do you-- remember the last few days?” Heck, was he nervous.

Keith shot him a pointed look. Oha. Grumpy boy was back.

“I don’t have amnesia.”

“Oh. Okay. Well,” Lance continued, “I’m really sorry about… everything. You were drugged and I didn’t notice. I should’ve noticed. You were… I should’ve noticed.”

Keith got up from the chair, earning a disapproving look from Pidge. 

“Keith, you should--”

“I gotta get back to work,” he interrupted them. “I’m late already.”

Lance moved aside to make room for Keith to pass but he stopped in front of Lance.

“There’s, uh, nothing to apologize for, Lance,” he said, his voice shaking a bit.

“Well, I did take advantage of you so-- yeah… I do need to apologize. And I wouldn’t even be mad if you didn’t accept it. I overstepped so many boundaries and--”

“Lance. Stop it.” Keith shook his head. “I need a few minutes,” he added quietly. “Alone.”

“Sure thing,” both Pidge and Lance replied and Keith was on his way out.

“I was expecting a punch in my face. How can he not be mad at me? I don’t understand.” Lance shuffled his feet and stared at the floor. “What if he leaves again? I mean, how could he not? After all this.”

“Give him some time. I have this feeling that things will turn out okay this time.” Pidge gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “You can stay here with me for a while and be my amazingly handsome sidekick.”

Lance was grateful for the distraction his friend was about to provide him and smiled weakly. “Okay…”

~~

It’s been three hours since Keith had left the terrarium and Lance had checked his phone approximately every twenty seconds ever since. At one point, he had left the terrarium and mindlessly wandered around, talked to the janitor and helped to feed the donkeys he had a soft spot for.

The last message from Keith had been “i miss you” and rereading these three words over and over began to hurt him big time. 

When Lance checked his phone again - twenty seconds later like clockwork - there was a new notification. A message from Keith. Lance’s legs almost gave out and he excused himself from the janitor to sit down on a nearby bench.

Keith:

**can you come over?**

**to my truck?**

Lance:

**are you ok?**

Keith:

**yeah. you coming? i’m at central station**

Lance:

omw

Okay, you can do it, Lance psyched himself up when he walked towards the well-known coffee truck after parking his car. It was a bit after 10 am so there weren’t many customers around. Lance swallowed, his hand shaking when he rapped at the back door.

Not a second later, the door sprang open.

"Hey.”

Keith appeared, a nervous smile on his face, and motioned him to follow inside. 

“Hey,” Lance replied. He wasn’t quite sure what was about to follow or how he was supposed to act around him. Not after… what had happened between them. “You're back to… normal?" he asked and leaned his back against a shelf.

"Normal?"

It didn’t help much that Keith decided to keep standing opposite of him. There wasn’t much space between them but at least no body contact. Lance didn’t know he could go through this. His guess was: Keith wanted to talk. Clear things up between them. Maybe… move out? Urgh.

"Normal meaning… uhm," Lance sighed. "Without being, uh… “

“I haven’t yelled at any customers today so that’s a plus.” 

The light smile on Keith's face calmed his nerves quite a bit. Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

“Cried about any dogs yet?”

“Only twice,” Keith joked but then a frown appeared on his forehead. “Sorry for bolting this morning. I needed to… check myself before we talk.”

“Check yourself?”

“Make sure I’m, uh, back in control. Pidge texted me details about the salvia’s effects and what it did to me.” He shot Lance a questioning look.

“You know more than me then,” Lance stated and somehow Keith ended up looking quite relieved.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Because… first I wanted to explain to you why I disappeared.”

Lance tilted his head in confusion. “Because you needed to check yourself, you just told me. It’s fine, I get it.”

“No.” Keith pressed his lips together, gathering his thoughts for a moment. “Not this morning. I mean… two months ago. When I left campus without-- Ah, damn. Here. Just take it.” He pushed an empty coffee cup into Lance’s hands and a flush took over his face.

“Uh? Thanks?”

“No, turn it-- turn it around,” Keith mumbled, unable to meet Lance’s eyes.

And true, on the side of the cup was something written in black ink...

“That’s… your number, isn’t it?”

Keith nodded, then stared back at the floor. Lance couldn’t help but notice how unusual shy he was in comparison to the last few days.

“Back on campus, I wanted to give you this cup for _weeks_ but I… I was too anxious. Also, how cliché would it have been. The barista writing his number on a cup… But then I set my mind to actually doing it and you... slipped me the napkin with your number and the-- the text and the heart and I— I panicked.”

Lance almost didn’t believe his ears. “You… panicked?”

“Giving you my number without knowing what you thought about the idea... I mean of us going out, that was something I was finally willing to do. But learning that you… _liked me back_? And wanted to go on a date with me? That… uh… overwhelmed me.”

“It was the heart, wasn’t it? Shit, I knew I overdid it.”

“No, the heart was, it was great. It was me. I was scared I might screw it up. You made me so happy already and you were only talking to me a couple of minutes a day. So I thought leaving and having you in my mind was better than staying and losing you.” Keith closed his eyes and rubbed his hands across his face. “Can I still blame the bug for saying this?”

Lance huffed a laugh, suddenly feeling so much lighter. “Oh God, Keith, what kind of gay dramas have you been watching?”

“The Untamed, it’s on Netflix and very good. There’s a cute dog called Fairy.”

Lance smiled warmly at him and gently removed the fingers from Keith’s face.

“I gotta ask…” he said quietly, looking into Keith’s eyes, “when you kissed me--”

“I meant it.”

Lance drew in a sharp breath and let go off Keith’s hands. “That doesn’t make any sense. Nope. The love bug, it was--”

Keith shook his head. “You have no reason to blame yourself for anything that happened, uh, between us. I might have been drugged but… it wasn’t an aphrodisiac. All I did was acting upon my feelings instead of ignoring them, pushing them down or… instead of disappearing.”

He took a deep breath. Lance had the feeling that the next words were the most important ones so he stayed quiet.

“I yelled at the customers because I was angry. I cried about the dogs because they made me incredibly happy. I kissed you because--”

“Because?” Lance urged him carefully.

“Because.” Keith took his hands in his, gently caressing them. “Because I wanted to. For a long time.” His voice got quiet and stared at their hands. “Usually, when I feel things I don’t know how to deal with, I run away. But this time… I didn’t run away. And we kissed. And now I can’t stop wondering what else would happen if I… stayed.”

Lance leaned down to draw Keith’s eyes back up to him. “Gee, dangerous things could happen.”

Keith met his exaggerated eye flutter with a smile. “Like?”

“For starters, we could kiss again.”

Keith grimaced and turned his face away from Lance’s piercing look. “I feel so embarrassed about you having seen me in the last few days.”

“Embarrassed?” Lance laughed, gently pushing Keith’s faces back towards him. “I know you struggled a lot but… I loved how much you talked to me and opened up. You wanna hear something _really_ embarrassing?”

“Like what?”

“I was so devastated that you left that I failed several classes and didn’t have time to find a new roommate. So Pidge chose one and it was you. Alone sitting here and talking to, ah, the guy I can’t stop thinking about... I don’t know how I even function.”

Lance was perfectly aware of the blush that dusted his cheeks but hell, Keith deserved the truth.

“What functions do you have the most trouble with? Maybe I can help.”

“My resistance to not kiss you is currently failing.”

Keith smirked.

“You don’t need that feature anyway.”

With those words, Keith leaned forward, gently interlocked their fingers again and kissed Lance. Nothing else mattered anymore. This was real, this had always been real and Lance was over the moon when he pulled back to take in Keith’s beautiful face.

“Do you wanna be roommates with benefits?” he suddenly blurted out.

Keith let out a strangled “what” that quickly got kissed away by Lance, accommodated with a chuckle. 

“The benefit is us being boyfriends?”

“Oh my God.” Keith laughed quietly and leaned his forehead against Lance’s. “I thought--”

“Whatever you thought, keep that in mind.” Lance gave him a wink. “For much later.”

“I will.” He kissed the tip of Lance’s nose. “And yes. I’d like that a lot, us being boyfriends.”

“Me too.”

Lance bit his lip. 

“I don’t wanna scare you off but… I have already planned out our first three dates. One, we have to give the StarKid bug a proper funeral. I feel it deserved it.”

“Star Wars.”

“Nerd. Two, we have to buy a farewell-present for the Husky. No, stop hiding your face!” Lance giggled and enjoyed seeing a blushy Keith.

“God, I am so--”

“Perfect,” Lance mumbled and kissed his cheek. “You’re perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And Keith did just that by leaning forward, capturing Lance’s lips with his and kissing him again.

“What’s date three?” he mumbled against his lips.

“Animal shelter.”

“Oh my God.”

Keith took Lance’s face in his hands. Lance almost couldn’t bear how adorable Keith looked, barely being able to hide his excitement. 

“Are you serious? You meant that? For real?”

“Of course I did,” Lance said and Keith’s face lit up. “Possible names,” he continued. “Poe, Chekov, Adama or - my favorite because oddly appropriate - Starbuck. Get it? Like Star Bug?”

Keith laughed loudly.

“Who’s the nerd now, huh?”

“Never said I wasn’t one,” Lance grinned and pulled him into another long kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with the idea during a plane ride from Seattle to Amsterdam while we were watching Northern Lights between Nunavut, Canada, and Greenland. Absolutely stunning! And all I was able to think about was how the hell do I get love bugs in a modern setting AU, lmao. It was fun coming up with it.  
> Happy 2020 everyone! \o/


End file.
